


Homestuck: The Novel

by PsychoLeopard



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Andrew Hussie canon, Esoteric vocabulary, Gen, Let me tell you about Homestuck..., Mind-blowing shenanigans, Multi, Strong Language, Typing Quirks, Video Game Mechanics, Violence, and much much MUCH more..., multiple second-person pov, wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:12:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 136
Words: 136,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoLeopard/pseuds/PsychoLeopard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Novelization of the greatest webcomic ever made. Join four ordinary teens as they play Sburb, meet aliens, make mistakes and get messy. Oh, and try to save the world.</p>
<p>Please be sure to read the chapter notes for individual warnings.<br/>Now with links to the beginning of each act in the chapter 1 notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act I: Play Game

**Author's Note:**

> Homestuck belongs to Hussie, and really should be read at [mspaintadventures.com](mspaintadventures.com) in order to be appreciated fully. However, it can be a little hard to follow all the plotlines and notice all the important details. When I decided to reread (upon reaching Cascade), I wanted to read a novelization, but there wasn't one to find.
> 
> One of the my goals is to make the beginning a bit easier to understand. The apparently almost universal reaction to starting Homestuck is along the lines of “can this be right?” It took me three tries to finish Act 1. It started making more sense in Acts II and III, and by Act V, I was in love. That said, there are a lot of details in the first few acts that don't seem important but actually are...four or five acts later. (Actually, the intermissions become important much sooner than that). So, let's see if I can make a more coherent story out of it, shall we?
> 
> Pesterlogs are unadulterated Hussie. Running gags and quirky turns of phrase likewise.
> 
> For ease of navigation:  
> [Act II](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1065603/chapters/2169194)  
> [Act III](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1065603/chapters/2631703)  
> [Intermission](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1065603/chapters/4915119)  
> [ Act IV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1065603/chapters/5400602)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your house
>   * _When:_ The present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> none

### Chapter 1: Act I: Play Game

04-13-2009

Your name is John Egbert, and today is your thirteenth birthday.

It is also the day the world ends, but you don't know that yet. You will play a role in the apocalypse, but you won't know that for even longer.

You are going to waste a lot of time between now and then, generally acting like a n00b who has not been in the world for thirteen years. Almost as if some external force were acting through your life. Not that this will occur to you.

Right now, your only concern is your anticipation for two unrelated events. The first is, predictably, the annual celebration of your birth. The second is the arrival of a new game, called Sburb, which was supposed to come three days ago. You are more excited for the latter than the former. 

There is no big birthday bash planned for today. You are not exactly the coolest kid you know. It might be your penchant for pranks, the time wasted on bad computer programming, or your shitty taste in movies (What do _Armageddon_ , _Con Air_ , _Ghostbusters_ , and Matthew McConaughey have in common? Only you know!) that kept you from making a lot of friends. You don't really mind, though, because you have several good friends you met over the internet. 

Even though there is no party in the works, there are several cakes in your room. Your father has gone all out baking cakes today, and there is no way you could ever eat all these pastries. There is one on your dresser, and another on your magic chest, where you stash most of your cool stuff. You decide to look through it, for no particular reason. After moving the cake to your bed, because where else would you put it?

With the exception of the cakes and some random nails and a hammer on the floor, your room is actually pretty clean. Your bed is made, with the ghost-print blanket tucked in. Your bed is next to the door, with the dresser opposite. In the corner at the foot of the bed is your magic chest, covered with yellow stars and moons. Your computer is on your desk in the corner opposite your bed. There is a cd-organizer full of your video games next to your desk. Your closet is between the desk and the dresser. Your walls are almost entirely covered in posters of your favorite movies, along with a calendar. The April page displays a green spirograph design with a boxy house shape in the center.

So really, your bed is the only available surface if you want access to your magic chest.

The first thing you pull out are your fake arms, which are useful for various hilarious antics. You captchalogue them in your sylladex. This is your quirky inventory management system, in the style of RPGs. Also in your chest are trick handcuffs, a stunt sword, a magician's hat, a pair of beagle puss glasses, smoke pellets, blood capsules, a copy of _Colonel Sassacre's Daunting Text of Magical Frivolity and Practical Japery_ , and a copy of _Harry Anderson's “Wise Guy”_ by Mike Caveney. For now, you just take the smoke pellets, hoping they will be useful. 

This fills half of your sylladex, since you only have four captchalogue cards. When you try to access the fake arms, you discover that they are blocked by the smoke pellets on top. Turns out you are operating a “stack" fetch modus, which means you can only access the last thing you captchalogued. Well, nevermind, then. 

On your dresser is a note from your father. It reads: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SON. I AM SO PROUD OF YOU. Next to it is a rolled up poster, also from your father. You take the poster. Then you pick up a hammer and some nails that were lying haphazardly on your floor. This amounts to five items, and pushes the fake arms out of your sylladex. This is something that will be happening a lot, because you are not very adept with your sylladex. A more adept user might be able to weaponize this function, but you honestly rarely think ahead that well. 

For some reason, you get the urge to “squawk like an imbecile and shit on your desk.” It is almost as if there is a little voice telling you what to do. It is surprisingly hard to resist this nonsensical urge, but you manage it.

You get the bright idea to merge the top two cards in your sylladex so that you can use the hammer with the nails. You can then use them on the poster. Brilliant! It is worth noting that you pretty much never use items that aren't in your sylladex. 

You are very pleased with your new _Little Monsters_ poster. After admiring your new acquisition, you re-examine some of your other posters until your computer alerts you to a message. You head over to your computer to check it out.

You made the wallpaper on your computer yourself, and it is a rather shitty rendering of Slimer from _Ghostbusters_. There are several files of your attempts at programming on the desktop, along with your browser, Typheus, and your messenger application, Pesterchum. 

Pesterchum flashes to let you know when someone is messaging you. Right now only one of your chums is logged in. You open turntechGodhead's message. He types in bright red text; you type in blue, with the chumhandle of "ectoBiologist." This word means nothing right now; you just thought it sounded cool when you heard it some months ago. 

TG: hey so what sort of insane loot did you rake in today   
EB: i got a little monsters poster, it's so awesome. i'm going to watch it again today, the applejuice scene was so funny.  
TG: oh hell that is such a coincidence i just found an unopened container of apple juice in my closet it is like fucking christmas up in here  
EB: ok thats fine, but i just have one question and then a word of caution. have you ever seen a movie called little monsters starring howie mandel and fred savage?  
TG: but  
TG: the seal on the bottle is unbroken  
TG: are you suggesting someone put piss in my apple juice at the factory  
EB: all im saying is don't you think monster howie mandel has the power to do something as simple as reseal a bottle?  
EB: try using your brain numbnuts.  
TG: why did the fat kid or whoever drank it know what piss tasted like  
TG: i mean his reaction was nigh instantaneous  
EB: it was the 15th day in a row howie mandel peed in his juice.  
TG: ok i can accept that  
TG: monster B-list celebrity douchebags are cunning and persistent pranksters  
TG: also fred savage has a really punchable face  
TG: but who cares about this lets stop talking about it  
TG: did you get the beta yet  
EB: no.  
EB: did you?  
TG: man i got two copies already  
TG: but i dont care im not going to play it or anything the game sounds boring  
TG: did you see how it got slammed in game bro????  
EB: game bro is a joke and we both know it.  
TG: yeah  
TG: why dont you go check your mail maybe its there now  
EB: alright.

You go to the window to look outside at the mailbox. In your yard you can see your tire swing and your mailbox. You are thrilled to see that the red flippy-lever thing is up. Before you can go down to check it, however, your dad's car pulls up. You know that if you go downstairs now, your dad will monopolize hours of your time. Despite the events of the last hour or so, your time is very precious. This leaves you stuck in your room. You decide instead to waste some more time dinking around your room, looking at your games and messing with your sylladex. It's not like this is the last day of life as you know it, or anything. A poorly planned captchalogue prompts you to change your mood icon on Pesterchum to “bully,” since the situation is not dire enough for “rancorous.”

While you are online, you answer turntechGodhead's latest message.

TG: is it there  
TG: plz say yes  
TG: maybe you can play with TT shes been pestering me all day about it  
TG: shes mackin on me so hard all the time i start to feel embarrassed for her  
TG: i mean not that i can blame her or anything  
EB: yes, it is understandable because you are really attractive. i am attracted to you.  
TG: thank you  
EB: jk haha.  
EB: no, i don't have it yet.  
EB: my dad has the mail and i guess i have to go get it from him and see if it's there.  
EB: and i've been busy spending all afternoon shitting around with my stupid sylladex.  
EB: it's so frustrating.  
TG: whats your modus  
EB: what?  
TG: how do you retrieve artifacts from it  
EB: oh. like one at a time i guess. and if i put too much in, something falls out.  
TG: stack?? hahahahahaha  
EB: what is yours?  
TG: hash map  
TG: my bro taught me a few tricks he basically knows everything and is awesome  
EB: what the hell is that?  
TG: you should probably brush up on your data structures  
EB: i guess.  
TG: did you at least allocate your strife specibus  
EB: no.  
TG: it could free up a card for you  
TG: plus let you attack stuff whenever things get too hot to handle  
TG: which is never  
TG: what have you got  
EB: well, i've got a hammer but it's trapped under some arms.  
TG: wow you really suck at this dont you  
TG: just get rid of the arms and then allocate the hammer to the specibus  
EB: how?  
TG: i dont know just use the arms on any old thing and see if it works

You follow your friend's advice, and stick the fake arms in the cake on your bed. Oh man, so hilarious. Then you flip over your "strife specibus" card to see what your options are. There are a lot of options. Seriously, who is ever going to use "spoonkind" or "puppetkind?" Although it does make your choice of "hammerkind" seem reasonable by comparison. 

You hop back on Pesterchum to update your friend:

EB: ok, i did it.  
TG: hammerkind?  
EB: yeah.  
TG: ok that will be the permanent allocation for your specibus  
TG: i guess i should have mentioned that  
EB: uh...  
TG: hope you like hammers dude!  
EB: yeah, that's fine i guess. i can't imagine it's going to be all that relevant. (1)

Now you've got some space in your sylladex, so you immediately fill it. You pick up the _Sassacre_ text and the latest _GameBro_ magazine, which reviews Sburb. You also pick up and combine the elements to create a clever disguise, using your magician's hat and beagle puss glasses. While wearing these items, you are able to access the item beneath them. With your disguise in place, you finally feel safe leaving your room and heading downstairs.

Your house is a fairly standard suburban home, with the exception of the harlequins everywhere. There are bedrooms for you and your dad upstairs, along with the bathroom and a balcony where you keep your telescope. Downstairs are the living room, your dad's study, and the kitchen. You can smell fresh baking coming from the latter room, and blame the connivings of your arch nemesis, Betty Crocker.

Your first stop is the living room, since the room is actually open to the stairs. Under the stairs is an archway leading to another room. On the wall next to the arch is one of your dad's brightly colored harlequin paintings. Beneath this painting is the couch, where you see another cake. Between the couch and the stair landing in an end table with a harlequin lamp and one of your dad's pipes. In front of the couch is a gray and white diamond-patterned rug, with a really big gift-wrapped present on top.

The TV is on the wall across from the couch, next to the door. There is a collectors' cabinet full of harlequin figurines in the corner beside the fireplace. Saloon doors between the fireplace and the archway lead to the kitchen.

Despite being April, a fire burns in the fireplace, as is right and proper. As domestic myth of unaccountable origin holds, a home borrows the spirit of the flame for as long as it makes a guest of it, much as the moon takes liberty with the sun's rays. 

"The moon's an arrant thief, and her pale fire she snatches from the sun." -Mark Twain 

You are almost certain Mark Twain said that.

You toss your _GameBro_ into the flames, but it does not burn as quickly as you hoped. While you are waiting, you look at the urn on the mantel. It holds your Nanna's ashes. You don't remember her, but your dad has told you about a tall bookshelf, a ladder, and an unabridged copy of _Colonel Sassacre's_.

Of course, you knock over the urn, spilling ashes everywhere. 

This seems like a good time to beef up your disguise with your dad's pipe. You also cannot resist examining the extremely large package sitting in the middle of the room. Attached is another note:

CHAMP. YOU CAN DO ANYTHING IF YOU PUT YOUR MIND TO IT. I BELIEVE IN YOU.

Inside the package is...oh hell no. Not another harlequin! This one is bigger than you are! You'd rather deal with Nanna's spilled ashes. You prop the harlequin up on the couch out of the way, then captchalogue the ashes. You combine the ashes with the urn and return the resulting mess to the mantle. No one without eyes will ever know the difference.

You get a brilliant idea for your fake arms, so you head back up to your room. This is convenient, since it looks like someone is pestering you. This friend is titled tentacleTherapist, and she types in lavender font.

TT: I understand you have recently come into possession of the beta release of "The Game of the Year", as featured in respectable periodicals such as _GameBro_ Magazine.  
EB: that's an ugly rumor.  
EB: whoever told you that is a filthy liar.  
EB: and you should probably stop hitting on him all the time or whatever.  
TT: I can't control myself.  
TT: I must have a weakness for insufferable pricks.  
EB: anyway i still haven't checked the mail, my dad has it.  
EB: i'm trying to go get it from him, so brb  
TT: John.  
EB: what?  
TT: You're wearing one of your disguises now, aren't you?  
TT: You are typing to me right now while wearing something ridiculous.  
EB: no, why would you even think that??  
EB: that's so stupid.  
TT: Ok.  
TT: Why don't you go get the game from your father?  
EB: alright, wish me luck.  
EB: oh, btw...  
EB: jk I was wearing a funny disguise this whole time.  
EB: gotcha! hehehehe  
TT: I know, John.

Your friend thus temporarily appeased, you gather up the cake-covered fake arms and head back down to the living room. Using the frosting as an adhesive, you attach the fake arms to your new harlequin doll, because it is funny. You consider consulting _Colonel Sassacre_ to find out just how funny it is, but the text is just too big to navigate easily. It's not worth it.

Time to find your dad. He could be in the study or the kitchen. You try the study first, but it is empty.

While you're there, you poke around. In one corner is the piano you use to practice for your lessons. In another corner is a hefty safe. Both the piano and the safe have black-and-white harlequin figurines atop them. The wall behind the piano is entirely covered with a huge print of a cast of the Cirque du Soleil's “O.” And in the third corner, to the right of the door, is your father's desk and hat rack. On the desk are playing cards, one of your dad's pipes, an empty captchalogue card, the April issue of _The Serious Jester_ , and a can of peanuts. You will certainly not be falling for that one! Your severe peanut allergy is no laughing matter.

You swap your magician's hat for a bowler hat on the hat rack, which is less funny but a lot more distinguished looking. You contemplate adding the second pipe to your disguise as well, but decide against it. The first one tastes bad enough as it is, but such is the price of comedy.

You do take the empty captchalogue card in order to expand your inventory...except you end up with a captchalogue card containing the empty card. Argh!

To settle down, you play a haunting piano refrain. It is meandering and peaceful. It is really too bad you shortly won't be able to indulge in your musical ability for some time. Speaking of indulging, you play the prankster's favorite card game, 52 pick-up. Considering you are alone, this is actually a rather stupid idea. Look at this mess.

Now that this room has received the Egbert treatment, you head back into the living room. You think about checking the mailbox, rather than plunging headlong into an encounter with your dad. Along the way, you glance at the TV, which is airing a commercial for Ecto-Cooler Hi-C.

You successfully leave the house via the door, and make your way to the mailbox. As you predicted, it is empty. You glance up at your neighborhood, full of houses much like your own.

The streets are empty. Wind skims the voids keeping neighbors apart, as if grazing the hollow of a cut reed, or say, a plundered mailbox. A familiar note is produced. It's the one Desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune. 

It is your thirteenth birthday, and as with all twelve preceding it, something feels missing from your life. The game presently eluding you is only the latest sleight of hand in the repertoire of an unseen riddler, one to engender a sense not of mirth, but of lack. His coarse schemes are those less of a prankster than a common pickpocket. His riddle is Absence itself. It is a mystery dispersing altogether, like the moon's faint reflection, with even one pebble of inquiry dropped in its black well. It is the most diabolical riddle of all. 

"Absence diminishes little passions and increases great ones, as wind extinguishes candles and fans a fire." -Walt Whitman 

Yes, you are certain Walt Whitman said that. One hundred percent positive. 

You have a feeling it's going to be a long day.

You remain stuck at home. For now.

You turn to your dad's sedan, which is sitting next to you in the driveway. The vehicle is locked, of course, but you are able to peer through the driver's side window. You don't see any normal mail, like bills and stuff, but sitting on the passenger's seat you do see a green package and some kind of slip of paper under it. Did your dad forget to take this stuff inside?

You try to spy through the kitchen window, but you can't see much on account of the steam on the windows from your dad's baking. You can just make out the table near the window, where you spot a red package, some bills, your dad's PDA, and an envelope labeled with what looks like the Sburb logo. Could it be? Is it finally here?

Of course, the kitchen window is locked. There is no other choice. You will have to brave the kitchen with your clever disguise.

As you pass through the living room, you absently notice that one of the arms has fallen off the big harlequin. Guess the icing didn't make the best glue after all.

You enter the kitchen. Against the wall to the right are a cabinet of games and the door to the utility room. Across from the door is the fridge, with a slime-ghost you drew a week ago proudly displayed. Next to the fridge is the stove, then the counter that wraps around the corner to the sink. Beside the sink is the table you saw from outside. Your goal is at hand.

You are confronted with a pipe, a suit, a hat, and a large cake with thirteen candles. This is your dad.

He sees right through your costume. You don't know why you bothered with this foolish ruse. You unequip the disguise. 

You are left in your usual attire: rectangular glasses, a t-shirt with a green ghost on the front, plain pants, and shoes. Your black hair is left somewhat untidy from the various hats. Perhaps the shirt gave you away, or your buck-teeth.

Your dad and his cake are between you and the mail. There is only one way to settle this.

It is time to strife!

His first move is to light the candles and offer the confection to you. You aggrieve, charging forward and hammering at the cake, to no effect. You abjure, but he insists on coddling you. You cannot abscond, for your guardian is blocking your path. You will need some sort of distraction.

Your ruthless dad now brandishes another artifact of confection, this one a pie. You brace for impact and equip your disguise once more. The beagle aegis absorbs the brunt of the pie to the face. You dad will enjoy the prankster's gambit on that exchange, as usual.

You unequip the beagle puss and captchalogue the pie tin. This pushes the smoke pellets out of your sylladex, which could be just the distraction you...

...or nothing happens. What a letdown. 

With no other options, you reluctantly accede. Oscar Wilde once said "When two great forces oppose each other, the victory will go to the one that knows how to yield." Wise words from a man who could likely resist everything but temptation.

The cake pushes _Colonel Sassacre_ out of your sylladex. The text lands on the smoke pellets, setting them off. Finally that book was good for something. Now is your chance!

While your dad is busy placating the smoke detector by frantically waving a broom at it, you sneak over to the table. First you take your dad's PDA, planning on pranking him later by changing the background image. It might come in handy, too.

By taking the PDA, you push the captchalogued captchalogue card out of the sylladex. This integrates the card into your deck, leaving you with five cards to work with, one of which is empty. So that's how it works.

The red package is addressed to you, so you take it. And the envelope is indeed the Sburb beta! You take it, dropping your beagle puss disguise in the process, like you care now. With your goal accomplished, you hurry out of the kitchen.

In the living room, you pick up the cake (with fake arm) from the couch, expelling the pie tin. Then you get the bright idea to combine the cakes in your sylladex to make a double decker cake. As they are on the first and last card in your deck, this smashes everything in there together onto one card. Why don't you ever think these things through? It's like you need someone watching you all the time. 

You head back upstairs and into the bathroom to fetch a towel. You will need something to clean up the mess you are going to make dissecting this cake.

The bathroom is fairly standard. Tub, towel rack, toilet, mirror, and sink with shaving cream and a razor for your dad. There is also a window looking out onto the backyard. You can see your swing set, responsible for years of joy, and your spring-mounted pogo-ride, responsible for painful injuries and years of lament. 

You take the razor and perform surgery on the cake. You take the towel and clean off the extracted goods. The cake, razor, and towel are now in your sylladex, while the package, beta, and PDA are on the sink. You take your items, forcing the cake into the toilet when your sylladex is full. That's annoying.

You finally return to your room with your loot. Your computer indicates new messages, but first you go to admire your “McConaughey Wall,” a casual shrine to an amazing actor. You're not usually into chick flicks, but Matthew's charisma salvages _Failure to Launch_. You think _A Time to Kill_ is a lot better. 

CAN YOU SEE HER? I WANT YOU TO PICTURE THAT LITTLE GIRL. [chokes up] NOW IMAGINE SHE'S WHITE. 

You got us Matthew! Your smooth talking exposed our latent racism! Damn you are good!

The third poster on the wall is of _Contact_. You don't think about this one right now, but it will be mentioned later.

Time to stop ignoring your computer. The sound alerts are getting annoying. You check Pesterchum, and see that you have messages from your third friend, gardenGnostic, as well as turntechGodhead again.

GardenGnostic types in bright green. TurntechGodhead always types in red. It is like Christmas on your screen.

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:34 -- 

GG: hi happy birthday john!!!!! <3  
GG: helloooooo??  
GG: ok i will talk to you later!!! :D 

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:56 -- 

 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:40 -- 

TG: hey GG is looking for you why are you even so popular all of a sudden  
TG: is today some sort of special occasion or something  
TG: did you do something to curry favor with ladies  
TG: did you break your leg on a puppy or some shit  
TG: dude what are you doing  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] is now an idle chum! --  
EB: i discovered a comet that is going to destroy the earth, and it was named after me.  
EB: now i am famous, and everyone wants to talk to me a lot.  
TG: no stop  
TG: just no  
TG: dont talk about your awful stupid movies or make references to them  
TG: your gross man-bro crush on matt macconahay is an unsavory thing to behold  
EB: mcconaughey.  
TG: sounds like a noise a horse would make  
TG: ie dumb  
TG: equally dumb are all those pictures of that clown youve got hanging up  
EB: those are my dad's.  
TG: i was talking about nick cage  
EB: oh, what?! no man, cage is sweet. so sweet.  
TG: ha ha so lame  
TG: you dont even like him ironically or anything this is like for real isnt it  
TG: hahaha  
EB: i do things ironically sometimes.  
EB: what about what i sent you for your birthday?  
TG: no those are awesome  
EB: what? no, they're stupid, which was the joke. the IRONIC joke. get it?  
EB: wait...  
EB: you're actually wearing them, aren't you?  
TG: im wearing them ironically  
TG: because theyre awesome  
TG: the fact that theyre ironic makes them awesome  
TG: and vice versa  
TG: are you taking notes on how to be cool?? jesus get a fucking pen  
EB: you do realize they touched stiller's weird, sort of gaunt face at some point.  
TG: ew yeah  
TG: oh well  
TG: anyway speaking of which  
TG: did you get the mail  
EB: yeah.  
TG: did there happen to be a package there  
EB: yeah, there's a big red one.  
TG: you should probably open it  
EB: i would, but it's trapped under the sburb beta, so i will probably open it after i install the beta.  
TG: oh man the beta came  
EB: yeah! wanna play it?  
TG: haha no way  
EB: why not!  
TG: it sounds so HELLS of boring just get TT to play it she is all about that  
EB: where'd she go.  
TG: her internet is blinking in and out i guess  
TG: probably be back online soon  
TG: oh and christ in a sidecar are you still using the stack modus???  
TG: seriously dude  
TG: you need to BONE UP on your data structures that shit is just ridiculous  
EB: ok, i will.

Before doing that, though, you decide to space out on the computer. You open your Typheus web browser and go to the most amazing website ever created.

The new adventure on MS Paint Adventures is okay, but you're not sure you like it as much as the last one. On your screen is a panel of the sinister gang called the Midnight Crew. The room is dark, lit by a single lightbulb suspended over a square table. Judging by the rungs and manhole cover in the ceiling, they are underground. There are three doors, marked with a heart, a spade, and a diamond. The gang consists of four dark-skinned members, all dressed in suits and brimmed hats: one very short and fat, one large and bulky, and two more slender of middling height. Their expressions are grim as they gather around the table where their heist plans are laid out. Someone has driven a blade through the plans into the table. 

You don't really want to read this right now. Crime movies aren't your favorite, anyway, _Con Air_ notwithstanding.

It's time to install the Sburb beta. You insert the CD, and a black screen appears. The text reads: 

`SBURB version 0.0.1. Copyright SKAIANET SYSTEMS INCORPORATED. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. SBURB client is running. Waiting for server to establish connection…`

_What the fuck is this?_ you wonder. Looks like you have time to bone up on data structures after all.

You go to your closet, where you keep your clothes and an array of computer programming guides. _Data Structures for Assholes_ is one of the thickest books on your shelf. You're not sure you want to dig into this huge tome. It looks really boring, and ornery. However, the cover does call out the free fetch modus in back. You'll take that.

This one is a “queue” data structure, which means “first in, first out.” Whatever, sounds better than stack's “first in, last out.” You apply the new modus to your sylladex. You can now only access the bottom card. This makes the red package inaccessible.

Maybe this isn't better than stack. In fact, it may be more inconvenient. Too bad you can't switch back to stack modus without the physical card, which you're not sure you ever had. This is getting too abstract for you.

A little voice tells you to put down the razor. Put it...down? You're...not sure you understand.

Instead, you pick up the two cakes in your room. Finally, a use for them as dead weight.

The second cake forces the razor to launch from your sylladex, sticking in McConaughey's face on your _A Time to Kill_ poster. Oh, you wish it had failed to launch!

You captchalogue everything in your magic chest in order to move things along. The towel lands harmlessly on your head. Your dad's PDA goes flying through the window like a bullet. God dammit.

At least you can now access the red package. It's from one of your internet chums. It's bound in packing tape though. You'll need something sharp to open it.

Ah, of course, the razor! It's so simple, you wonder why you didn't...

You pick up the razor without thinking it through. The box hits you on the head and lands on the ground. You pick it up again, and send a cake flying to hit your McConaughey wall.

Okay, let's take this from the top. You quickly captchalogue three glass shards and duck for cover. Your sylladex rains devastation on your room from above. Considering your sylladex is now packed with glass, you probably shouldn't try that again any time soon. Not that you could, with most of your stuff now lying in the yard outside your window. You should probably grab that stuff before you forget.

...Nah.

However, you can now use the razor to open the package. There is something suspiciously dirty and smelly inside.

It is a stuffed bunny. Much like the one held hostage briefly by Malkovich's Cyrus "The Virus" while taunting hard-luck protagonist Cameron Poe. And strikingly similar to the one scooped up from the soot of a burning Vegas strip by Cage's Poe and offered to his daughter, a gesture symbolic of a tattered exterior surrounding a heart of gold. Poe wasn't much to look at. But he was a good man. 

But no, it is not merely _like_ that bunny. According to this note of authenticity, it is the _very same_ bunny. 

This is so awesome.

Your computer is trying to get your attention again. You check the monitor, and find more white text on the black screen:

`A Sburb host user is attempting to connect with you. Client has established connection with host. Press [ENTER] when ready.`

The cursor is blinking.

Your Pesterchum is flashing, too. Looks like a message from tentacleTherapist.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 17:08 -- 

TT: It looks like you managed to retrieve the beta. Excellent.  
TT: I'm going to try to connect.  
EB: whoa ok but i just got the most awesome present.  
TT: The rabbit?  
EB: SO SWEET.  
TT: I've heard tales of this wretched creature often. Its Homeric legend is practically ensconced in the fold of my personal mythology by now.  
EB: ha ha, what?  
TT: Why don't we focus on the matter at hand?  
EB: oh the game, ok.  
EB: i don't really know how this works. what am i even looking at here?  
TT: You are running the client application. I am running the server, so I am the host user. I have established a connection with you. This is sufficient for us to play the game.  
EB: oh, ok then.  
TT: Why don't we get started?

You press [ENTER]

The most incredible loading animation ever created appears on your screen. It looks like an amped up version of a certain life simulation game you have never played. There is some text flashing under the status bar, displaying seemingly nonsensical phrases too rapidly to read. Above the text, the Sburb logo spins, changes color and size, and goes through several designs that look like they came from a spirograph.

You are now playing Sburb. There is no backing out.

Not that there was ever a chance of that happening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Everything Hussie puts in becomes relevant at some point. Everything.


	2. Act I: Be John's Server Player

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your house
>   * _When:_ The present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> pov change, wordiness, sarcasm

### Chapter 2: Act I: Be John's Server Player

After hours of pestering your chums by turns, you are playing Sburb at long last. John has installed the client, and you are connected to him as his server. On your computer, you have a view of John standing in his room. He looks like the quintessential example of the “geek” archetype, with his thick, square glasses, his buck teeth, and his pasty complexion. You suppose he does not get a lot of sunlight, as he lives in Washington and spends most of his time on the computer. His room is... interesting. You have no intention of inquiring about the towel or the shards of glass on the floor. You have already heard about the rabbit. You are unsurprised by the posters on the walls, and you do not presently feel inclined to analyze their peculiar... decorations. You have other concerns at present.

At the top of your screen are the controls for the game. In the corner is a dashboard of sorts carrying the Sburb logo. There are disk, folder, and [X] icons, as you might expect. The directional arrows, the magnifying glass, and the rotational arrows seem self-explanatory. Stretching from the dashboard to the upper right-hand corner of your screen are seven interface buttons. “Select” is an arrow made out of pieces of a house. A similar arrow with pieces out of alignment means “Revise.” A downward pointing arrow is utilized to “Deploy.” You also have access to a “Phernalia Registry,” represented by an empty captchalogue card and a green box; “Grist Cache,” which greatly resembles a blue gusher; “Explore Atheneum,” which shows a stack of captchalogue cards with the top one containing a green box; and “Alchemy Excursus,” with a potion bottle and a card punched like old-fashioned electoral ballots.

You can make an educated guess at the purpose of the first three, but you opt to try them out anyway. It never does to assume. You click on “Select” and use the cursor to click on John's magic chest. You move it out of the way, revealing a pink fetch modus card underneath. You zoom out enough to have a view of the outside of John's house, and drop the magic chest on the roof. It was just taking up space, anyway.

John takes immediate notice of your actions, and questions you about it.

EB: whoa, what are you doing??   
TT: Sorry. I'm just getting a feel for the controls.   
EB: is my magic chest on the roof now??   
TT: Yes.   
EB: :(   
TT: I will try to be more careful next time.

John is now free to apply his stack modus card to his sylladex, and he toggles back and forth between his modi gleefully. He stops upon hearing something outside his window, and you zoom out to see his dad pulling out of the driveway.

This prompts John to pester you.

EB: hey, do you think you could do me a favor?   
EB: can you grab all that stuff outside my broken window and bring it in for me?   
TT: I'll give it a shot.   
EB: thx! 

You move the cursor over to the indicated items strewn across the lawn, but the display turns red beyond a certain distance from John's house. 

TT: No luck.   
TT: It appears to be out of range. I'm guessing it is too far away from you, the "player".   
EB: :C

You try to select John, but are unable. He abjures the meddlesome cursor. 

You are able to select the bunny, which you return to its box. This pleases John.

You choose the Revise button, and use it to add to the dimensions of John's room. You create an extension in the direction of the stuff on the lawn.

This new space seems like a good place to deploy something. You open up the registry, viewing the “Cruxtruder,” “Totem Lathe,” and “Alchemiter.” All three of these large machines are without a listed price. You deploy the Totem Lathe for John to puzzle over. It looks somewhat like a very large sewing machine, or a carving machine of some sort.

You check your Grist Cache, which shows you have 16 of a possible 20 blue gushers, which you presume are grist. There are apparently other forms, of which you have none. You can see purple gushers, white blocks, yellow drops, and green gushers. There are many more blank bars, marked only by question marks. You will doubtless discover these later.

You update John with your findings thus far.

TT: It seems expanding the dimensions of your room cost us some "Build Grist".   
TT: But deploying the lathe did not appear to incur any expense.   
TT: It looks like certain objects are freebies, probably to help you set up the game.  
EB: wow, ok.   
EB: what do they do?   
TT: I think it's up to you to find out.   
TT: All I can do is drop stuff in your house, and move it around, apparently.   
EB: how do i move stuff around? it sounds fun!   
TT: I don't think you can as the client. You will need to install the server application.   
TT: You should have received both in separate envelopes. I am running both on my computer right now.   
EB: what??   
TT: Did you get another envelope in the mail?   
EB: no!   
TT: Once you install the server and establish a connection, I'm sure you will be able to manipulate my environment in the same manner.   
TT: Are you sure you didn't get it?   
EB: oh man.   
EB: i think i might know where it is.  
TT: Now that your room is bigger, why don't you move to the far corner?   
TT: It will extend the range of the cursor, and I can reach the items.   
TT: Which... you threw out the window for some reason?   
EB: good idea!   
TT: What have you been doing in here all afternoon, anyway?   
EB: ugh, i was fussing with my retarded sylladex.   
EB: but i think i have it under control now.   
EB: what modus do you use?   
TT: I like to use trees.   
EB: oh no, that sounds so awkward.   
TT: It's not exceptionally practical.   
TT: But I think they are elegant.

John obligingly stands in the corner, allowing you to move his flung items back to his room. Then you return to the deploy screen.

You set the Cruxtruder in a convenient niche in the living room. This device is large, with a square base about five feet across, some kind of clock screen on the side, and a large pipe on top. There is a wheel handle on the side of the pipe, and the end is plugged by a cap with the Sburb logo.

You deploy the Alchemiter on the balcony. This is another large device, with a round platform taking up much of the area. There is a smaller round platform in one corner, about the size of the pipe on the Cruxtruder, with a peculiar robot-arm hanging above it.

EB: why is the floor shaking?   
EB: are you dropping more stuff in my house?   
TT: Yes. Two more large gizmos.   
EB: sweet!   
EB: what is with all these big contraptions?   
TT: If I had to guess, they appear to facilitate a sort of system involving punch card-based alchemy.   
EB: huh.   
EB: to what end?   
EB: i mean what are we supposed to be doing in this game?   
TT: That remains to be seen.   
TT: Maybe you should go investigate?

It seems John took your suggestion to mean “mess around with Dad's PDA.” He spends some time staring at it, and apparently installs Pesterchum on it so that he can pester you from elsewhere in the house. While he is doing that, you use the directional arrows to check out the rest of John's house. This doesn't take long, as it is considerably smaller than your own. However, the bathroom is a mess. Is that...a cake...in the toilet? You cannot fathom what John was doing to cause that and are not sure you want to.

EB: hey, i'm out on the balcony now.   
EB: i am messaging from my dad's pda.   
TT: The one you threw into the yard?   
EB: no, i am telling you.   
EB: it jumped out of my sylladex like a frightened weasel.   
TT: What were you doing with it in the first place?   
TT: I am not sensing a lot of regard for the personal property of others.   
TT: Is this how your pent-up frustration with your father manifests itself? 

You are tempted to reach for your notebook to record these observations, but decide to just make a mental note for later.

EB: what? no.   
EB: those were all accidents.   
EB: please take your psycho-babblery elsewhere, miss!   
TT: Your bathroom is a mess.   
TT: Did you do that too?   
EB: oh man, see this isn't cool.   
EB: all this snooping nonsense!   
TT: There's a cake in the toilet.   
EB: yes. there is.   
TT: I'm tempted to clean it up for you.   
EB: ok, if that will satisfy your weird ocd complex then go ahead.   
TT: My Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder complex?   
TT: Can a disorder also be a complex?   
EB: in your case, probably!   
TT: Sounds complicated.   
EB: anyway...   
EB: i am going to have a look at this enormous platformy thing you put on the balcony.

In John-speak, “have a look” means “foolishly stand upon.” Boys are dumb.

Once John steps off the Alchemiter to look through his telescope, you feel safe attending to the mess he made of his house. You grab the soiled toilet... and accidentally rip out the flooring with it.

TT: Whoops.   
EB: whoops what?  
EB: what was that noise?   
EB: is this something i should go investigate?   
TT: No, I have it under control.   
TT: You can keep playing with your telescope.

You put the toilet in the yard next to John's pogo-ride, where it is out of the way. Unfortunately for you, John almost never just does what you tell him. He investigates the bathroom and finds your handiwork.

EB: augh!   
TT: I think I can patch it up.   
TT: Just give me a little space.   
TT: Why don't you go have a look at the Cruxtruder?   
EB: the what?   
TT: The thing I put in your living room.

John jumps through the hole in the floor, landing on the washer in the utility room. There is a sledgehammer and a green card against one wall. He takes them and applies them to his strife specibus. Then he pauses to answer Pesterchum on his PDA. He isn't talking to you. From the color of the text, it looks like it's gardenGnostic. You give him a little privacy.

After he finishes talking to her, John heads over to the Cruxtruder.

EB: oh hell no, you put this thing in front of the door?   
TT: There's a door there?   
EB: um, YEAH???   
TT: I didn't see it.   
TT: I just thought it fit nicely into that groove.   
EB: you mean you thought it was elegant?   
EB: ok well what do i do with this thing.   
EB: hello?   
EB: what are you doing up there now?  
TT: Oh fuck.

What you are doing is moving the bathtub with floor attached, expending more grist in the process. You are not sure why you did that. You move the tub toward the driveway, but your internet connection cuts out partway. This has been occurring intermittently for hours. 

When you get your connection back, the tub has ended up on the top of the stairs and John is standing inside it, pestering you.

EB: you can see me, right.   
EB: tell me what is wrong with this picture.   
TT: Sorry. I keep losing the wireless signal.   
TT: Must be the weather.   
TT: I would look for a stronger signal in another part of the house, but I'd rather not risk an encounter with my mother.   
TT: I battled through her cloud of gin and derision once already this evening.   
EB: haha, yeah I hear you.   
TT: Yes. Cake, jesters, unfaltering love and support.   
TT: Quite a road to hoe there.   
TT: Though I suppose I'm complicit for not informing Social Services about your situation.   
EB: i know!   
EB: what about going outside?   
EB: maybe you could catch a neighbor's signal.   
TT: That presents the same problem.   
TT: Also, it's raining, remember?  
TT: And dark.   
EB: It's dark already?   
TT: Yes, the sun has already had its way with us here on the east coast.   
TT: Its lurid glare has moved on to younger timezones.   
EB: haha, um, ok.

John hops out of the bathtub and goes back down to the living room. As he approaches the Cruxtruder, he gets out his sledgehammer. You can guess what he is about to do and have no objection to his plan. The sledgehammer is too heavy for him to actually swing, however, and watching him try to lift it is only really amusing for a short time.

TT: Need some help?

You select the hammer and help him lift it over his head. He is able to bring the hammer down with the help of gravity. He hits the strange cap on the pipe, and your screen flashes white for a second. On screen, the Cruxtruder flashes blue and vibrates before expelling a... well, you don't actually know what it is. The object is a sphere bigger than John's head and is flashing white, blue, and black at seizure-inducing speed. At the center of the sphere is a spirograph, always flashing blue.

You look away from the sphere to save your eyes, and note that the clock on the side of the Cruxtruder is now displaying “4:13.” Since that is not the current time, for either John or you, you assume it must be a timer. Sure enough, the 13 clicks over to 12 and then 11 as you watch. You now have a little over four minutes to figure out what is going on.

Fortunately, while you were waiting earlier, you had the foresight to check out the GameFAQs website for clues. You left this page open in your browser, and you click over to it now. John pesters you before you get very far. 

EB: what is this thing?   
EB: and what is that clock counting down to?   
TT: I've been looking at the GameFAQ walkthroughs to figure some of this stuff out.   
TT: Hold while I read further.   
EB: ok.   
TT: All of these walkthroughs are extremely short.   
TT: None progress much further than this point.   
EB: weird.   
EB: well, i mean it is a new game.   
TT: True.   
TT: Now that the lid is off, you will need to extrude some "Cruxite".

John turns the wheel on the Cruxtruder pretty easily now that the cover is out of the way. Out comes a blue cruxite dowel. As it pops out, it lands on the stool John was using earlier, and the floating sphere slides out of the way. You wonder how sentient the thing is. There are four minutes left on the timer as John picks up the dowel.

TT: I feel like we should be hurrying. That countdown is making me nervous.   
TT: John?   
TT: Oh. Your PDA is trapped under the cruxite now, isn't it.   
TT: Anyway, it looks like you are going to need this card too.

You deploy your last free item, the pre-punched card, from the Phernalia Registry. The card has an image of a blue apple on it. You set the card next to John as a hint to pick it up. When he does, a shard of glass shoots out of his sylladex and maims the harlequin doll on the couch. Well, maims the hat, anyway, which it hardly a big loss. You don't think John will mind.

You keep an eye on John as you speed-read through the rest of the walkthroughs. You can't help noticing that there isn't much to them. You could certainly do better.

He picks up two fanciful harlequin figurines, probably to get to his PDA. One shard slices through the doll's eye, and other cuts across its armless side. Now the doll is truly maimed. On the plus side, once John switches to queue modus, he can once again access the PDA.

EB: this thing keeps following me around.   
EB: i think it's trying to talk to me or something.   
TT: That is probably the "Kernelsprite".   
TT: It apparently needs to be "prototyped".   
TT: Twice, actually.   
TT: Whatever the hell that means.   
TT: These walkthroughs are horrendously written.   
EB: hmm, ok.   
EB: well, you are the one with the cursor so just do whatever you think is the right thing to do!   
EB: also, fix my bathroom.

So you need to prototype the sprite, and you don't have a lot of time. Well, the doll is right there... oh, why not? You select the maimed doll and drop it in the kernelsprite. The sprite flashes and changes. Instead of the spirograph, there is the head of the doll and one forearm and hand, surrounded by a thick blue ring. A circus-like theme song plays in the background.

EB: i still can't understand this thing's gobbledygook.   
TT: That was only "Tier One Prototyping".   
TT: There is still another tier to the prototyping process.   
TT: Which for all we know merely advances this entity through increasingly esoteric states of linguistics.   
EB: the clock is ticking.   
EB: we don't have time for this asinine tomfoolery.   
TT: This unmitigated poppycock?   
EB: extravagant hogwash!   
EB: ok stop   
EB: stop typing whatever silly thing you're typing.   
EB: i'm going upstairs to the big platformy thing.   
TT: The alchemiter?   
EB: ??   
TT: Try to learn the lingo.

While you have a moment, you check out your server options, wondering if you will find a clue there. You find that acquiring a cruxite dowel seems to have populated the Atheneum with one “perfectly generic object,” a green cube, which is worth two build grist.

John heads up to the balcony with the kernelsprite floating along behind him. However, when he reaches the Alchemiter, you both realize there is no obvious place to insert the pre-punched card. John captchalogues his telescope for a reason that probably makes sense to him. This should make the cruxite dowel accessible.

In the meantime, you click over to GameFAQs again. Might as well accomplish something. There isn't much more to be gleaned from the existing walkthroughs. If you are deciphering their grammatically incorrect rambling correctly, they all seem to start raving about an impending threat and then cease updating. To be sure, it is a new game, but it strikes you as peculiar that they all truncate at the same point in the game. Peculiar, and worrying.

John places the cruxite dowel on the small pedestal of the Alchemiter. The robotic arm extends and seems to scan the dowel, like a barcode. John must set a quantity, because three perfectly generic objects suddenly appear on the large platform. Six units of build grist and several precious seconds wasted. You only have a little over three minutes left.

John apparently notices something in the sky, because he accesses his telescope and looks through it. The kernelsprite is becoming more agitated, vibrating wildly. When John puts the telescope down ten seconds later, he looks a little shaky. It doesn't stop him from high-fiving the kernelsprite, though. He had indeed left him hanging for long enough.

You notice John's dad's car pulling into the driveway, and navigate your screen to the bathroom in the hopes of repairing it before the man notices. You do not wish to make him upset with you, particularly not to the point of forbidding John from playing Sburb.

TT: Your dad is getting home.   
TT: John?   
TT: What did you do with your PDA this time?   
TT: I'm working on the bathroom.   
TT: But we are running low on Build Grist.

You take a quick scan around the balcony and discover that the PDA is in the neighbor's yard. It must have been jettisoned over the fence when John grabbed the telescope. You decide that will have to wait. The bathroom presents a more immediate problem in your mind. You utilize four units of build grist to repair the holes in the bathroom floor. You aren't fast enough to rescue the toilet before John's dad notices it in the yard. It seems that he has discovered that the front door won't open and is now headed around the house. You might have time to salvage this yet.

Meanwhile, it looks like John has returned to his room to use his computer.

TT: I'm working on the bathroom.   
TT: But we are running low on Build Grist.   
EB: oh man who cares about the bathroom, now there's a meteor heading for my house!!!   
TT: I see.   
TT: Do you suppose it has anything to do with the game?   
EB: i don't know, maybe! what do i do!   
TT: I think it's very likely.   
TT: The walkthroughs vaguely suggest an impending threat before they end.   
TT: The already poorly constructed sentences become even more curt and ambiguous.   
TT: As if written hastily and with a sense of alarm.   
TT: Actually, their dedication to updating the walkthrough under such circumstances is admirable.   
EB: wow, FASCINATING.   
EB: ??????   
TT: If the meteor is a game construct, I think the only thing to do is to proceed, and try to solve the dilemma on the game's terms.   
TT: Try using the lathe.   
TT: It says you can use the card on it, but isn't more specific than that.   
EB: ok i'll do that.   
TT: Really, it is a labor to read this drivel.   
TT: If I read any more my brain will need to be spoon-fed from a jar.  
TT: While it blows spit bubbles in a highchair.   
TT: I think I will write my own walkthrough.   
TT: That is, after we make sure you don't die.

John follows your suggestion, and puts the pre-punched card into a slot on the totem lathe that was clearly designed for it. The tool arm displays a configuration of chisels. John heads back out to the balcony, dodging the sight of his dad who is now puzzling over the bathtub on the stairs. You hope John is fetching the dowel he left on the Alchemiter.

This seems like a good time for you to return the toilet to its proper location. First you remove the cake, leaving it on the pogo ride. Then you return the toilet, with its chunk of floor still attached, to the corner of the bathroom where you found it. It is the perfect crime.

Sure enough, John has retrieved the dowel and clamped it in the lathe. When he activates the lathe, the chisels descend and carve one “totem.” You take your chance to move the tub back to the bathroom, but the storm raging outside knocks out the power in your house. Your wireless internet connection goes with it. 

The tub is left blocking John's door, with a little over two minutes on the timer.

Well, fuck.

Alright, that's it. It's time to establish a more stable internet connection. Or at the very least _a_ connection. 

Your name is Rose Lalonde, and you are a lady with a mission.

You rise from your desk. Even in the dark you can navigate your room, though you might stumble over a knitted scarf or two. Your laptop, Sburb envelopes, and Grimoire are on your desk. Your massive bookshelf is in the corner next to it. Your knitting is on your bed to your left, and two notebooks are on the floor next to you. Your violin is on a cabinet to your right. You tuck the purple box sitting next to it into the cabinet... just in case.

You get the strange and terrible idea to writhe like a flagellum and puke on your bed. The thought alone makes you sick to your stomach, but you manage to refrain. You kick your journals under your bed out of sight.

You captchalogue your violin in the root card at the top of your sylladex. You can't resist playing a haunting refrain on your violin. It takes less than a minute. Then you grab your knitting bag. It occupies the left leaf card, per the alphabetical sorting method of the tree modus.

While you're on your bed, you glance out your panoramic window. It offers a view of your yard below, and the mausoleum housing your dead cat, Jaspers, who died when you were young. Your mom had the structure erected with a spirit of scornful irony in response to your youthfully innocent request to hold a funeral for the animal. At least, that is how you have come to interpret the gesture in retrospect. 

You can also make out a silhouette of the laboratory next door, a facility which likely broadcasts a strong wireless internet signal. You may be able to connect to the signal from a different part of the house. Perhaps if you seek higher ground?

You take your laptop, since of course it will be necessary in order to continue playing. It drops into a leaf below your knitting bag before the tree autobalances, leaving the laptop in the root card. You also grab the _Grimoire for Summoning the Zoologically Dubious._ This thick tome is absolutely indispensable for enthusiasts of your ilk. Of which there are very few.

Certain you have acquired everything you will need, you leave your room.

Hanging just next to your door in the hallway is an ornately framed painting of an exquisite wizard. Your mother collects these awful things ironically. She must know how much you detest them, and there is no doubt in your mind she stores these dreadful things in the house to bother you. 

Down the hall to the right is the way to the observatory. Perhaps you will be able to connect from up there? 

Your mother's room is also in that direction. You will have to watch your step. You tiptoe down the hall, past a wizard figurine and another painting. You approach a wide staircase leading from a juncture in the hallway. Beyond the juncture is the observatory. You sneak by, timing it between lightning strikes. You are almost certain you did not see a silhouette holding a martini glance illuminated in the flash.

At the end of the hall, between yet another painting and another figurine, is the door that leads up to the observatory. You haven't ventured up there in quite some time.

The door opens to an exterior walkway. You've seen less inclement weather before. Oh the things you'll do to help out a friend. Fortunately, it is only a few steps to the door. You race up the spiral staircase to the observatory. Time to see if you can connect.

You first put your laptop on the floor to get it situated. As this was the root card, everything in your sylladex is dumped unceremoniously on the floor.

Even though you are in a hurry, you take a quick peek through the huge telescope. You find a gap in the clouds. It seems a flurry of smaller meteoroids is streaking steadily overhead. You're not sure what this means, but it is somewhat disconcerting.

This reminds you that John is in peril. You stack your laptop on your Grimoire to maximize the elevation. You'll need every advantage you can get. You access the laboratory wifi network to find several signals of decent strength being broadcast. One of them is mysteriously and quite conveniently unsecured. The signal lets you reconnect with John. There are forty-one seconds on the timer. Predictably, he has been trying to message you.

EB: alright, i used the lathe to make this blue shapey thing.    
EB: now i guess i take it back to the alchemixer again?    
EB: hello???????    
\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] is no longer connected! --   
EB: uh...    
TT: I'm back.    
EB: hurry up and open my door!!!!!!    
EB: not that it even matters, i think i'm probably dead no matter what!!!!!!    
TT: Patience. You still haven't used the new totem.    
EB: ???    
TT: I believe it will create the item on the punch card.    
EB: so what is it, like an apple or something?    
EB: what good will that even do?    
TT: We'll see.    
TT: I've found no evidence that anyone has successfully created the item.    
TT: And the content of the card appears to be variable from session to session.    
TT: In one instance it was described as an "eggy loking thign" [sic].    
EB: do we have enough of those building jewels to make it?    
TT: According to the Atheneum, it is a free item.    
TT: This speaks to its importance, in my view.    
TT: Now off you go.

You use the last two units of build grist to remove the bedroom door from its hinges, freeing John from his room. While he grabs the totem and runs for the Alchemiter, you put the bathtub back. You probably should have just done this in the first place.

The green blocks John made earlier are still on the Alchemiter platform. You store them in the Phernalia Registry in case they become useful later. 

With those out of the way, the Alchemiter is able to read the totem. From the platform sprouts a mature apple tree, which produces one large blue apple.

With thirty seconds on the clock and a meteor rushing his way, John takes a last look around and takes a bite out of the apple. Seconds later, the meteor crashes into John's neighborhood, centered on his house. 

This game is not quite what you were expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have a device which can handle animations, I highly recommend you check out the [end of act animation.](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=002146)


	3. Years in the Future...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ N/A
>   * _Where:_ A desert wasteland
>   * _When:_ Years in the future…but not many
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Time skip, abrupt but necessary temporary pov shift, extremely short chapter because reasons

### Chapter 3: Intermission: Give Commands

The ruins of a city skyline can be made out in the distance, over the dunes of a desert. A wayward vagabond records a stuttering step in the sun-bleached dust. WV is wrapped in dusty gray fabric, leaving only a small swath of black uncovered.

WV finds something strange and confusing. A white half-circle sticks out of the edge of a dune. A black hand with four fingers brushes away the sand to reveal a green spirograph.

An unsealed tunnel welcomes hot desert air into its stagnant depths. Sunlight flows down the rungs set into the side of the circular tunnel, lighting up a yellow substance on the tiled floor below. Through the doorway at the bottom is a gray and purple room. Cables hang in loops from the ceiling. Purple, boxy apparatuses with a familiar logo rest against the righthand wall. 

On the lefthand wall is a strange viewing machine in the shape of a house, chimney on the roof and all. The base of the house is divided into four screens, but only the one in the upper right corner is on. There is a keyboard but no mouse. The caps lock key is lit.

Four-clawed hands begin to type.

>BOY

>YOU THERE. BOY.


	4. Act II: Start Walkthrough

### Chapter 4: Act II: Start Walkthrough

You click on GameFAQs. Filed under PC >> Miscellaneous >> Immersive Simulation, there are four FAQ/Walkthroughs for Sburb Beta. Three were written several days ago, but the one listed at the top was written today, April 13, under the pen name of tentacleTherapist.

Yes, that will do nicely.


	5. Act II: See If Your Dad Is OK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to point out that AO3 lets you "hide" or "show" the author's style. This chapter in particular will make much more sense if you "show." Otherwise John's little voice will read like shouting.
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your house (balcony)
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> destruction of property, temporal dislocation, rambling rapping, inexplicable compulsions

###  Chapter 5: Act II: See If Your Dad Is OK

You have never been so certain you were going to die. You even kissed your Liv Taylor poster goodbye.

There is a meteor heading for your house. You have spent the last four minutes running around your house doing things that mostly made no sense. Rose has been playing with your bathroom fixtures instead of helping you make sense of this stupid game. 

You're currently staring out at your neighborhood, now actually able to see the flaming rock headed on a collision course with your life. In your hands is a big, strange blue apple, created through the game that might have brought the meteor. 

How can this possibly save you?

With nothing to lose, you take a bite. It doesn't taste like apple. You're not sure it has a taste at all.

The world around you goes black. You have the feeling of eyes watching you from the dark. Your neighborhood, the sky, and the ground simply vanish between one blink and the next. Your house now rests upon a pillar of rock standing in a sea of gray clouds. Above is only black, not a star in sight. The wind blows loudly, even more desolate than it was before.

You...don't think you're in Washington anymore.

The kernelsprite is more agitated than ever. With a final pulse, it splits. A black circle with a gray silhouette of the harlequin drops below the cloud cover, and a similar white circle spirals above your house. As the white half ascends, at least four blue spirographs appear directly over the center of your roof. 

Only the blue harlequin itself remains at your side. The sprite mysteriously transforms, adding a ghostly body to what was just a head and arm.

For a moment you thought you heard someone say "BOY", as if whispered in the periphery of your awareness. 

It was probably just your imagination though.

(YOU THERE. BOY.)

You wonder where your dad is, and if he is okay. (PEEK OVER THE RAILING) With one last nervous glance over the railing, you head inside. The sprite bobs along behind you quite peacefully. Aside from the change in appearance, its transformation doesn't seem to have any relevant ramifications.

There is a strange black substance smeared in various places. Your room. Dad's study. The kitchen. Your dad is nowhere to be found, though his mixing bowl of batter lies abandoned on the floor. He seems to have left in a hurry, For all his absurdities you have put up with, you sure wish he were here right now.

Other than the oily stuff and the kitchen, the house does not seem to have been upended by the close shave with the meteor.

(OPEN THIS DOOR NOW)

You head outside through the utility room. (ADMIRE THIS WALL-MOUNTED GADGET) The power cords leading to your house were severed when your neighborhood disappeared, or you transported, or whatever, but you still seem to have power. Quite bizarre.

(PONDER LAWN AMUSEMENT) Looks like your pogo-ride made the journey, with cake intact, but your swing set is toast. Your trick handcuffs are still hanging on a branch of the tree, though you won't be climbing up to claim them right now. They are dangling over a precarious drop down into the clouds.

(BACK INTO THE HOUSE WITH YOU)  
You head back inside and climb the stairs. A weird impulse (OPEN THIS) has you trying the door to Dad's bedroom, even though you know it's locked. And it looks like Rose has at least tried to fix your bathroom. If setting the ripped out fixtures in kind of the right spot can count as fixing.

(BOY, QUIT ALL THIS SCURRYING AROUND.)

Your name is John!

(FINE. JOHN. RETURN TO YOUR QUARTERS.)

You go back up to your bedroom, tiptoeing around the weird petroleum-based sludge smeared across your bed and floor. Your door is still propped on your bed where Rose left it in her hurry to free you. The bunny is missing from the red box. Why can't it be in the box?

(NOW JOHN. RESPOND TO YOUR FRIEND UNIT)

It looks like Rose has been trying to pester you. 

GardenGnostic, who had been pestering you before, is greyed out. You hope she's okay. When she'd talked to you a little while ago, she'd mentioned hearing something like an explosion outside and had gone to investigate. You wonder if it has anything to do with the meteor that just hit your house!

TT: John?  
TT: Are you there?  
\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] is now an idle chum! --  
EB: hey, yeah i'm here!  
EB: and not dead i think.  
TT: I know.  
TT: I've been watching you scramble through the house like a lunatic.  
TT: You should have answered me sooner.  
EB: oh man, sorry, i was looking around for my dad and i can't find him anywhere!  
EB: have you seen him?  
TT: No. I'm sure he'll turn up.  
TT: We have more important things to address right now.  
EB: yeah, like where am i??  
TT: I don't know that either. But I've determined your neighborhood was destroyed by the meteor. Wherever you were transported, it saved you from the impact.  
TT: I've been reading reports in the news. Over the last few days, there have been many smaller meteor collisions with people's homes around the world.  
TT: And they seem to be getting bigger. Yours was the biggest they've identified so far.  
EB: wow, ok.  
EB: so then i guess if this is all the game's doing, then the point is for us to save the world?  
TT: Perhaps.  
EB: then we'd better get moving and figure this game out!!!  
TT: Yes, but wait.  
TT: We should retrieve your PDA. Yet again.  
TT: It will help to keep tabs on each other while you investigate.  
TT: I think I can get you closer to it, if I can replenish our grist supply somewhat.  
TT: There may be a way to recycle some that we already used.  
EB: ok.  
TT: I'll meet you out on the balcony.  
EB: wait, rose! one thing...  
TT: What?  
EB: you never even wished me a happy birthday!  
EB: um... hello?  
TT: I was working on something to send you, but I was running late with it.  
TT: I didn't want you to think I believed meager well wishes alone would suffice for the occasion.  
TT: That said, happy birthday, John.  
EB: haha, oh jeez, that is silly!  
EB: anyway, thanks!

You push away from your computer.

(FIRST, TAKE THE FABRIC ITEM ON THE FLOOR THERE.)

You're not sure why you should take the towel, but you captchalogue it anyway.

(DO AS THE PURPLE TEXT SAYS. TO THE BALCONY.)

You make your way to the balcony, and whimsically captchalogue the totem used to create the apple tree earlier.

(JOHN. RECYCLE THE GRIST AS WAS DICTATED BY YOUR COHORT.)

You...don't think you can do that. That's up to Rose.

(I SEE.)

Rose seems to know what to do, because she makes a plank from the balcony toward the PDA. The PDA is on its own little island of ground in the sea of clouds, and the plank is a full story above it.

(JOHN RUN ACROSS THE PRECARIOUS PLATFORM SWIFTLY.)

You are not sure you want to obey the little voice. It's a long way down.

(BOY I SAID MAKE HASTE ON THE NARROW CATWALK!)

You are very nervous, and the strident tones of the voice are starting to make you a little upset.

(FINE. PROCEED AS YOUR LEVEL OF COMFORT DICTATES.)

You cautiously walk along the plank within range of the PDA for Rose to retrieve. She sets it on the plank in front of you.

(NOW TAKE IT.)

When you take the PDA, you launch one of the harlequin figurines into the night. You can kiss that one goodbye.

When you check the PDA, you see that you're not the only one trying to locate your father after the disaster. fedorafreak, wellPressedAttire, officeurchin1280, and grayslacks66 have been submitting matters for pipefan413's judicious appraisal. They mostly seem to be concerned with the states of their wardrobes.

(THESE BORING MEN ARE UNINTERESTING.)

The Pesterchum app you installed alerts you to a message.

TT: John, are you ok?  
TT: You seem a bit tentative.  
EB: i'm fine i guess.  
EB: since i got here i feel compelled to do these weird things i don't really want to do.  
EB: by some kind of voice that i can't really even hear. i don't know, it is hard to explain.  
TT: Perhaps the early symptoms of an anxiety disorder, like post-traumatic stress?  
EB: yeah, maybe. who knows!  
TT: Well, if you can pull yourself together, there are a few more things we should try.  
TT: Like prototyping the Kernelsprite again, if possible.  
TT: We should hurry. My laptop battery won't last forever.  
EB: Ok. I will go back inside.

(NO DON'T DO THAT. HOP OFF THIS LEDGE ON TO THAT CAR.)

What? No! That sounds incredibly dangerous!

(==>==>==>==>==>)

You shake your head, absolutely fed up with these compulsions. Who are they coming from?

Whatever. You decide to listen to Rose, because you can be fairly sure that she has your best interests at heart. Or at least she won't make you jump off high ledges. You head back into the kitchen with the sprite.

You frown when you see that Rose has selected the Betty Crocker box. Not your nemesis!

EB: what? oh man, you're going to use that?  
EB: that sucks, what a stupid idea!  
TT: We have to hurry along. I'm running low on battery power.  
EB: but the cake mix... ugh, that's so dumb.  
TT: I doubt it matters.  
TT: We might as well just use any old crap lying around.  
EB: fine.  
EB: i GUESS.

To your delight, the sprite plays hard to get. It clearly enjoys the same sense of pranksterism that you do.

Next Rose selects the Sassacre text. You grin broadly.

EB: OH YES, SWEET!!  
EB: now we're talking!  
TT: See if you can distract it.  
TT: I'll try to sneak up on it.

Now that is a plan you can get behind! You flail about in a distracting manner, and the sprite does seem distracted. Just when you think Rose has it for sure, the pesky sprite eludes her again, vanishing through the wall into the living room. Not even the great Colonel himself can outfox it!!!

In failing to make the Colonelsprite, Rose drops the tome, and the house rattles under the astonishing girth of the book. You hear a suspicious crash.

When you enter the other room to investigate, you find that the sacred urn has toppled again. This time you're quite sure it wasn't your fault! But where is the sprite?

EB: aw man, where'd it go?  
TT: I can't find it anywhere in the house.  
TT: No time to worry about it.  
TT: The next thing we should do is get your server copy of the game from the car.  
TT: You need to connect to my client, so I can repeat your steps and presumably join you, wherever you are.  
TT: We should do this quickly, before my house burns down.  
EB: what, there's a fire??  
TT: There will be soon.  
EB: oh jeez!  
EB: so move this thing already!  
TT: It looks like it requires a lot of grist to move.  
TT: I don't have enough to relocate the door, either.  
EB: how much do you have?  
TT: Zero.  
EB: oh.  
EB: hmm.  
EB: i thought about jumping to the car from the ledge earlier but that sounds really dangerous!  
TT: I have a better idea.  
TT: Meet me upstairs.

(DO AGAIN AS THE PURPLE WORDS SAY.)

You are about to head upstairs, but you think you heard something behind you. 

It was faint, but you could swear it was a small, lighthearted chuckle. Along the lines of a spirited "Hoo-hoo-hoo!" You turn around quickly, but there is nothing there. The back of your neck prickles, so you spin in place, back toward the stairs. You repeat these motions several times, convinced that this time there will be someone there. You almost catch a glimpse of a spectral blue.

(IGNORE THIS WOMAN'S ANTICS)

You're not sure you even saw a woman, let alone any of her hypothetical antics. But whatever it was you might have caught a glimpse of, it sure gave you the willies. 

You head upstairs on your way to the balcony. Your PDA is acting up again.

(INDULGE THE DEVICE. BUT BE CURT WITH IT.)

It is turntechGodhead again. The last time you spoke with this chum was while you were running around under Rose's direction. You informed him that there was a meteor heading for your house, but his response was not very sympathetic. You are not exactly happy with him right now.

TG: hey bro check it out im working on some new rhymes  
EB: dude, i don't have time for your nerdy raps!  
TG: come on this is hells of ill just listen  
EB: it sounds like you don't even believe me that i was about to get blown up!  
EB: but i really was, but now im in some weird dimension that sburb sent me to or something.  
EB: and now on top of that i think i'm being haunted by my dead grandma!  
TG: huh  
TG: for real  
EB: yeah, it's true but i'll talk to you later about it!  
TG: i think i could drop some sick rhymes about all this  
EB: man, see i just don't think all the rapping stuff is really as cool as you think it is.  
TG: no thisll be dope check it  
EB: no, i have to go! bye!  
TG: wait wait  
TG: armageddon's gettin waged on us  
TG: but im-a gettin armed and dangerous  
TG: sending men in space for savin us  
TG: see which playa's more couragerous  
TG: ben or bruce? dudes reach a truce  
TG: put their blowchutes to use and up-suck it  
TG: afflecks saclifice, i mean -crifice, would have to sufflice. aw fluck it  
TG: bro be a stained-glass saint, up on a cross gettin hella christ-plagiarous  
TG: bruce's like offa that cruciflix, nuff a this fuckin savior-fuss  
TG: restrained his ass per mclane-redux while buscemi remained derangerous  
TG: when a plan gone astray pays off a wasted craterous  
TG: ash tray caterin to layers of matt maconnaheys vague remainder-dust  
TG: wait  
TG: uh  
TG: macconahey wasnt even in any of those meteor movies was he  
TG: ill have to make a rap about  
TG: i dont know  
TG: morgan freeman or something  
TG: being the president  
TG: itll be called  
TG: "obama made it so that no one gives a shit about black presidents in movies anymore"  
TG: see youve got to fill me in on whats going on  
TG: so i have something to rap about besides all your dumbshit movies

(ENOUGH STRANGE POETRY FROM THE RED TEXT.)

You let him just keep going and head out to the balcony to find out what Rose has in mind. She is messaging you again.

(THE PURPLE TEXT IS LESS IRRATIONAL THAN THE RED TEXT.)

TT: I'm lifting the car up to the balcony.  
EB: whoa, ok.  
TT: Once it is up, retrieve the game. Then I'll put it back down on the driveway.  
EB: but the door is locked!  
TT: Then break a window.  
EB: but it's my dad's car :(  
TT: It's just a window, and this is sort of an emergency.  
TT: Otherwise I promise I'll handle the car with velvet gloves.  
EB: alright.

You watch nervously as Rose lifts the car from the driveway. Just as it reaches your level, it drops right back down, striking the driveway with such force that the cliff beneath it crumbles. You can only watch in dismay as the car disappears beneath the clouds, along with half the driveway. What a time for Rose to lose her connection again!

(RIDICULOUS FOLLY. INEXCUSEABLE.)

You're inclined to agree, but hey, accidents happen. You double check your PDA to make sure Rose is really gone. Indeed this seems to be the case. 

TG is still pestering you of course. But another chum is now logged in as well. It's been even longer since you chatted with gardenGnostic. She asked whether you got her green package yet. As that package was in your dad's car with the Sburb server disc, you don't know when you will be able to find out what she got you. You remember that she logged off to go check out an explosion. You wonder what that was about.

(WHAT COLOR ARE THE WORDS THAT THIS CHUM SAYS?)

Green. Her words are green.

GG: im back!  
EB: oh hi!  
GG: i went to investigate the explosion i heard  
EB: was it by any chance a meteor?  
GG: yes!!!!!  
GG: how did you know??  
EB: oh man, it's kind of a long story!  
EB: anyway, are you ok? did it blow up your yard or start a fire or anything?  
GG: no i am fine!  
GG: it landed a pretty good ways from my house and i went to look at it  
GG: and its pretty big!  
GG: but bec doesnt want me to go near it  
GG: so i came home  
GG: he seems to think its dangerous!  
EB: well gosh, he's probably right!  
GG: anyway what have you been up to john?  
GG: oh!!!! did you get my package yet? :O  
EB: er...  
EB: yeah, i was trying to get it, but rose dropped my car into a weird spooky bottomless pit and the package was in the car and im really sorry about that.  
GG: oh no!  
EB: wow, ok, i guess i should start at the beginning.  
EB: see, a meteor blew up my neighborhood. 

You have to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. You are still a little shaken at how close you came.

GG: thats terrible john! im so sorry!  
EB: but i'm ok! and my house is too, sort of.  
EB: that game i was telling you about, sburb which i was playing with rose, sort of transported me somewhere at the last minute.  
EB: but now i'm trapped here and it's weird and dark and i can't find my dad and i just lost the car and my copy of the game in the pit and i think i have to save the world from the apocalypse!!!  
GG: O_O  
GG: well.....  
GG: it sounds really crazy and kind of scary but.....  
GG: it also sounds kind of exciting!  
GG: i dont know john maybe this is your destiny  
GG: if anyone can save the world i think it is probably you! 

That... is not something you had thought about. It almost makes everything less terrible.

EB: wow, you think so?  
GG: yes!  
EB: well ok, BUT.  
EB: it's not even that simple!  
EB: i was about to connect to rose to help transport her and save her from meteors and fire and stuff.  
EB: but she lost battery power and i lost the game disc!  
EB: so i think i have to get TG to use his copy to save her!  
EB: but that jackass won't shut up and stop rapping and stuff.  
GG: hahaha  
GG: he is so silly!  
EB: yeah. anyway i should talk to him about it, so brb.

(THE GREEN TEXT WAS ATTRACTIVE. NOW VIEW THE RED TEXT AGAIN.)

You certainly are popular today! Though it doesn't seem as if TG needs much input from you.

TG: when the film crew zooms where the presidents at  
TG: im like if that dudes black ill eat my hat  
TG: turns out he is, so we're all "damn, director's got gumption"  
TG: like we'll all flip our shit he aint shining shoes or somethin  
TG: its called freemancipation. if its not pres-election its god-ascension  
TG: in bruce almighty. whoops, different bruce from the one i just mentioned  
EB: aaaaaarrrgh!  
TG: cant explain to me why this aint condescension to think ill shit a brick  
TG: not even he can convey the intention with his quickspun wit  
TG: rather defray all this tension, sit on his lap while he whittles a splint  
TG: and some guy eyes what he does and patronizes: i guess negrocity's the mother of invention  
EB: stop rapping for a second you horse's ass!  
EB: i have something important to talk about.  
TG: whats up  
EB: rose is in trouble and she needs help. i was going to connect to her with sburb but i lost my copy!  
TG: ok  
EB: also she lost battery power. if she can get back up and running, she'll need someone with the game to get her out of there before her house burns down.  
EB: so i think you should use your copy of the game to help her!  
TG: my copy?  
TG: thats going to be tough  
EB: why?  
TG: i lost it  
TG: its a stupid story and id rather not talk about it  
TG: shit be embarrassing yo  
EB: i thought you said you had two?  
TG: well yeah  
TG: one is my brothers copy  
EB: ok, well get his then!  
TG: alright  
TG: but hes not gonna be happy about that  
EB: whatever.  
EB: also you might want to read rose's walkthrough to get up to speed on this.  
TG: oh man  
EB: what?  
TG: nothing really  
TG: look all im saying is the girl tends to lay it on kinda thick you know?  
EB: /ROLLS EYES

Your friends, you swear. If they aren't dropping cars and rapping endlessly, they're complaining that the others are weird. Sometimes you think you're the only normal one in the bunch.


	6. Act II: Seek Power Source

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your house (observatory)
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Awkwardly placed chunk of walkthrough, minor cliffhanger

###  Chapter 6: Act II: Seek Power Source

You lost your connection to John when your laptop finally ran out of battery power. The power in your house still has not come on. There's only one thing left to do. Time to make your way to the small backup generator stored behind the mausoleum in your backyard. The meteorites have been falling with greater frequency. The fire in the forest burns so hot, not even the rain is putting it out! You will be taking your life into your hands when you exit the building.

Speaking of the rain, you had better protect your laptop. You suppose you could knit something, but that would be a waste of time. Fortunately, you are excellent at planning ahead. You knitted a purple cozy awhile ago, so you retrieve it from your knitting bag now and apply it to your laptop. You then captchalogue the laptop plus cozy.

You consider equipping your Grimoire to your strife specibus, but decide that would be incredibly ill-advised. There are some dark forces you just don't want to mess around with. You understand this better than most. 

You put the book down. You grab the knitting bag and the grimoire in that order. It's always a logistical puzzle with your tree modus. The tree autobalances, leaving the knitting bag accessible in the root card.

You allocate your knitting needles to your strife specibus. You feel a lot more comfortable with needlekind as a weapon. You're so handy with those needles, you feel like you could probably use them to filet a sword fish.

You lose the root card in the process, severing the tree. As soon as you realize this, you dart forward and manage to catch your laptop in one hand and your Grimoire in the other. You really ought to be more careful.

You think about knitting a plush cuddle-Cthulhu to soothe your nerves. However, that would also be a preposterous waste of time!

Besides, you're quite sure you've never heard of this creature called "Cthulhu" before. There are however many other specimens of the zoologically dubious you're familiar with from your Grimoire. Such as...

Fluthlu, foul patrician of misery. He looks rather like a gargantuan octopus with too many tentacles and eyes on the opposite of his head from his gaping mouth. To hear his mammoth belly gurgle is to know the Epoch of Joy has come to an abrupt end.

And Nrub'yiglith, shamebeast king of grotesquery, writhe-lord of the moist beyondhood. He possesses even more eyes, mouths, and tentacles than Fluthlu. Hearing his melodious chirps and tongue-clicks causes one's bones to explode.

And of course there's Oglogoth, the deep one. Whenever he grinds his teeth, all the children of a random galaxy somewhere will frown continuously for a nine thousand year span. He is the first and smallest of the smaller gods, appointed in servitude of a vile, unfathomable pantheon of middling gods which caters to the whims of the noble circle of horrorterrors, an omniscient, omnipotent order of the elite few, forever cloaked in the darkness of the furthest ring.

And then there's this strange page containing some rather mysterious notes on summoning procedures. You've never been quite sure what these diagrams of windows are getting at. And that is enough perusing this tome.

You re-captchalogue everything the way you want it to appear in the tree, with the laptop accessible, and head downstairs. You figure that's enough dilly-dallying. Time to get a move on!

You head down the stairs and out onto the outdoor walkway. The rain is lit with an eerie orange glow from the nearby flames. You squint up at the clouds long enough to spy several meteors shooting past a break in the clouds.

You wonder if this rain will ever let up. It's driven since the month began, perhaps long enough to forget its purpose. It no longer even knows to assuage fire. Somewhere a zealous god threads these strings between the clouds and the earth, preparing for a symphony it fears impossible to play. And so it threads on, and on, delaying the raise of the conductor's baton. 

How you hate this season. 

"April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain." -American sports legend, Charles Barkley

As you re-enter the hall, you brace yourself. Surely your mother is lurking nearby. You should be prepared for an unpleasant confrontation, surely to come immediately upon clicking the “next chapter” button.


	7. Act II:Prepare for Inevitable Confrontation with Guardian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would not have been possible without the very talented blackSparrow. Also this chapter was a pain to code, so if it looks like I missed a letter please do let me know.
> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> puppets, language, dead animals, spelling and math at the same time

###  Chapter 7: Act II: Prepare for Inevitable Confrontation with Guardian

 

 

Oh psyche!

 

###  Chapter 7: Act II: Acquire Sburb Server Disc… Eventually

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are too cool to worry about narrative chronology.

It is an unseasonably warm April day. Your bedroom window is open to let some air in, and your fan is cranked. Arguably even more cranked would be your fly beats, which brings us to your variety of interests. A cool dude like you is sure to have plenty. You have a penchant for spinning out unbelievably ill jams with your turntables and mixing gear. You like to rave about bands no one's ever heard of but you. You collect weird dead things preserved in various ways and displayed on the wall. You are an amateur photographer and operate your own makeshift darkroom. You maintain a number of ironically humorous blogs, websites, and social networking profiles. And if the inspiration strikes, you won't hesitate to drop some phat rhymes on a mofo and represent.

Right now, you are just standing in your room, chillin' next to your turntables. Those and your bed are pretty much the only furniture in your room not supported by cinderblocks. The blanket on your bed and the poster above it display your love of the Midnight Crew. There are cords all over your floor, connecting your turntables, mixing gear, and computer.

A thought occurs to you, that you should get the damn beta and save your friend's life. This notion strikes you as nonsensical. You can't imagine how a video game could save someone's life, and in any case, you're quite sure no one you know is in any danger.

Sitting on your turntables are two envelopes. These are your copies of the beta you received in the mail recently. You've labeled them with your name in bold red print to distinguish them from your Bro's copies, who labeled his in kind. Neither of you really gives a shit about this game or has any intention of playing it, but you'll be damned if you'll let that get in the way of your campaign of one-upmanship.

Again you have a strange thought, that you should bleat like a goat and piss on your turntable. You would never consider allowing any fluid even remotely resembling urine to touch your beloved turntables. That would risk breaking them, and a world without the gift of your godly science just doesn't sound like a place you want any part of. While you're at it, you might as well wipe out human civilization with a meteor or something ridiculous like that which will probably never happen. 

That sort of thing only happens in stupid idiot movies for stupid idiots.

You will however contemplate bleating like a goat for ironically humorous purposes at a later date.

To the right of your turntables is your closet, where you keep a lot of your crap. Like that blue box. This is the package that your friend John Egbert sent you for your 13th birthday a couple months ago. It now contains nothing except a note and a certificate of authenticity vouching for the genuine hollywood memorabilia which the box originally contained, and which you are now wearing to be ironic but also to be incredibly cool in a way somehow intangibly related to the ironic nature of the accessory. You find it sort of exasperating to explain these subtleties to people. The box also included a signed photo of Ben Stiller which now proudly hangs above your closet. Proudly and ironically.

You captchalogue the box through your “hash map” fetch modus. The hash function resolves the index by valuing each consonant at 2, and each vowel at 1. The total is divided by your number of cards, and the remainder is the index. 

BOX = 2 + 1 + 2 = 5  
5 % 10 = 5 

The box is captchalogued in card 5.

Next to the box was a bottle of...what is that? Is that...? Oh hell yes. It is an unopened container of apple juice. You thought you were all out. It is like fucking christmas up in here. 

This is so great. You've got to tell John about this immediately. He'll be so excited. You immediately captchalogue the juice into card 7 and head over to your computer to pester John. In addition to letting your buddy know about this outstanding juice windfall, you figure you'll wish him a happy birthday while you're at it. In your own cool, sort of roundabout way of course. Good thing you looked at that box he sent you, or you might have forgotten. 

You also might as well ask him about that beta. The kid's been harping about it for weeks. It would be cool if it came on his birthday. He'd be one happy camper.

Persterchum is minimized on your computer screen, so it doesn't take long to open it.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 18:13 —

TG: hey so what sort of insane loot did you rake in today   
EB: i got a little monsters poster, it's so awesome. i'm going to watch it again today, the applejuice scene was so funny.   
TG: oh hell that is such a coincidence i just found an unopened container of apple juice in my closet it is like fucking christmas up in here   
EB: ok thats fine, but i just have one question and then a word of caution. have you ever seen a movie called little monsters starring howie mandel and fred savage?   
TG: but   
TG: the seal on the bottle is unbroken   
TG: are you suggesting someone put piss in my apple juice at the factory   
EB: all im saying is don't you think monster howie mandel has the power to do something as simple as reseal a bottle?   
EB: try using your brain numbnuts.   
TG: why did the fat kid or whoever drank it know what piss tasted like   
TG: i mean his reaction was nigh instantaneous   
EB: it was the 15th day in a row howie mandel peed in his juice.   
TG: ok i can accept that   
TG: monster B-list celebrity douchebags are cunning and persistent pranksters   
TG: also fred savage has a really punchable face   
TG: but who cares about this lets stop talking about it   
TG: did you get the beta yet   
EB: no.   
EB: did you?   
TG: man i got two copies already   
TG: but i dont care im not going to play it or anything the game sounds boring   
TG: did you see how it got slammed in game bro????   
EB: game bro is a joke and we both know it.   
TG: yeah   
TG: why dont you go check your mail maybe its there now   
EB: alright.

With nothing pressing to attend to, you decide to spend some time online. You open your Hephaestus web browser and direct it to your ironically maintained blog where you post monthly satirical reviews of GameBro Magazine. Your latest post is a review of the March issue. 

You've been meaning to write a review for the latest issue too, but you've been sort of dogging it. Something about the game they're reviewing just doesn't strike you as ripe for satirical purposes.

In a new tab you open another one of your sites, a webcomic ironically maintained through a satirical cipher vaguely similar to that of your blog. It's called Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff. You have legions of devoted fans, most of whom are totally convinced of your creative persona's sincerity. Which is just how you like it.

You figure as long as you're chilling at your computer you might as well see how that new MSPA story is going. You haven't looked at it in a while.

The first panel depicts four shadowy characters in dapper headwear gathered around a square table, upon which a paper has been stabbed through with a knife. The text beneath the panel reads "You are members of a sinister gang called the Midnight Crew. Your nefarious plots are serpentine in complexity. Your schemes, convoluted. You are planning a heist in your underground hideout. What will you do?"

On the next page, the heist plans have been cut away, except for a small circle where the knife is still embedded. At the top of the screen are four bladed weapons, and a single item: a large paper with a perfectly circular hole cut through the middle. "Spades Slick uses OCCAM'S RAZOR to carve a circular hole into the HEIST PLANS, freeing it from the knife. You wonder what moron would jam the knife so hard into the table in the first place."

The three panels on the next page show Spades Slick climbing the ladder to exit the hideout, and being thwarted by the getaway van parked on top of the manhole cover. This stirs “the sort of rage that'll make a man feel totally justified in sporting an unnecessarily elaborate assortment of fancy blades."

Yeah, you read this already. You don't remember where you last left off, so you jump way ahead. You always forget to save your place in the story. 

It looks like tempers have become short in this pressure cooker already.There are now divots in the wall, a hole in the door on the left, a blender sitting on the floor, a mace on what's left of the table, and what may or may not be a disembodied arm coming out of the door...? The four characters are whaling on each other with pool cues and canes. You speculate that the tipping point may have been an ill-advised motion for a game of 52 pickup.

Even though the adventure began recently, it's already over 3000 pages long. You just don't have time for this bullshit. You'll catch up later. 

Besides, it looks like someone's pestering you. You're pretty sure you know who it is.

TT: In some cultures the persistent refusal of a lady's invitation to play a game with her would be a sign wanton disrespect.   
TT: Either that, or flagrant homosexuality.   
TG: what oh no   
TG: no look   
TG: im busy ok   
TG: ive got a lot of shit on my plate   
TG: i am sort of a big deal ok?   
TT: I know.   
TT: Sometimes I wonder how you are ever allowed to pay for meals in restaurants.   
TT: It must be hard to keep a low profile when you're always overhearing awed voices whisper, "It's that guy who has a blog."   
TG: seriously   
TG: dudes be worshipping me left and right   
TG: i cant hardly walk down the street without stepping over torsos of the prostrate   
TT: Navigating the urban landscape I'm sure is difficult enough without an obstacle course of deferential flesh and skyward asses.   
TT: Perhaps adapting the art of parkour to your unique environment would help?   
TG: yeah!   
TG: i mean damn   
TG: like theres this scruffy little shit at my feet   
TG: an orphan or something i dont know   
TG: face flush on the pavement   
TG: im like dude you listening for a stampede of buffalo or something?   
TG: he braves a look at me then gives my shoe a little kiss and scurries the fuck off   
TT: Heavy is the crown.   
TG: yeah   
TG: not kicking oliver twist in the fucking face every day is my gift to the world i guess   
TT: Breathtaking magnanimity!   
TG: among other things   
TG: i just give and fucking give   
TT: Indeed, nary a jewel tumbles from your wishbox of daily exploits which I imagine does not sparkle.   
TG: oh for fucks sake   
TG: youre just lobbying for me to play that dumb game   
TT: Baseless accusation!   
TG: look i am telling you   
TG: egbert is ALL ABOUT that game   
TG: he will play it with you and probably be tickled retarded about it   
TT: I know this very well.   
TT: I cannot hasten his mail's delivery, however.   
TG: yeah yeah   
TG: ill hassle him some more about it   
TG: and look how about this   
TG: if you ever find yourself in the position where your life depends on me playing that piece of shit game, then ill play   
TG: will that make you happy   
TT: More than you know.   
TT: It perfectly mollifies my grief over the demise of chivalry.

You decide you've had enough of the computer for awhile. You feel like you've been messing around on it all week. It's time to get your jam on. 

You pull up to your trusty Akai MPC-1000 Sampler and get sicknasty. You spend some time mixing beats so fresh they belong in the produce aisle, is what you're talkin' about. Soccer moms be thumpin' that shit for ripeness like melons. Know what I'm sayin'?

After beats that fresh, it would be a crime not to reward yourself with a celebratory swig.  
2+2+1+2 %10 = 7. You retrieve the juice from your sylladex.

You lift the sweet juice to your lips...and freeze. The sweet thought of some prime aj is calling you, but you just can't do it! John's got you all twisted up inside now. All you can think about is Mandel's gross monster piss. 

Damn you, Egbert!

You re-captchalogue the juice.

You double-check that your strife specibus is allocated with the bladekind abstratus. You can wield your sweet ninja sword as a weapon once it is in your strife deck. But you will have to captchalogue it first before moving it there.

Two swords hang on the wall above your turntables. They look awesome hanging on your wall, but not as awesome as you will look with one in your hand. The ninja sword (2+1+2+2+1 + 2+2+1+2+2 = 17 % 10 = 7) occupies the same card as the juice, expelling the juice from your sylladex. It splashes all over your turntables and your copies of the beta. Argh!

You need to get a towel or something before it wrecks your shit, so you head for the bathroom across the hall. 

You glance at one of the many radical puppets in your bro's collection, a pimp daddy currently hanging in front of the door to your left, and nod in approval. 

Is there anything not awesome about your bro? No, you think not.

You enter the cramped bathroom. To the right is the wall-mounted sink and the toilet. To the left is the shower. There's a damp towel half in the shower and half on the floor you can probably use for this crisis. 

You stop to pay a little respect to one of your bro's boys up in the shower, this one wearing a backwards blue baseball cap and a red t-shirt with a green dollar sign on the front. Hey lil' man. How's it hangin'?

You take the damp towel (15 % 10 = 5), expelling the box onto the tank of the toilet. Man, you want to hang onto that box! You could search the bathroom for something slightly less damp...nah. You just decide to wring this towel out into the toilet to make it less damp. 

It is now just a towel (8 % 10 = 8), and fits into card 8. You grab the box again while you're at it.

Your mission accomplished, you head back to your room to clean (2+2+1+1+2=8) up the juice with the towel. To dry off the damp beta envelopes, you hang them on the line in front of the window, next to one of your ironic selfies. Man, you are one cool-looking dude, with your aviator shades and your slouch. The blond hair and the cool record logo t-shirt don't hurt either.

In the breeze of the fan, the betas jostle near the open window. This arrangement is a little disconcerting. If they fell out, it sure would be a stupid way to lose them.

The crisis is easily averted. You quickly click off the fan. You can't imagine it will ever resurface later in any way, shape, or form. That beta is as good as yours, forever.

You should probably go pester Egbert again. You wonder if he found his copy of the beta yet. You also might chat about your respective sylladices and fetch modi, if the topic happens to come up. You wonder if he is anywhere near as smooth with his sylladex as you are. Probably not. It's probably not even humanly possi...

Suddenly a rambunctious crow flies in the open window and snatches the beta, possibly to make a nest with, or maybe just for the sake of being a brainless feathery asshole. 

You yell at the bird. “STOP!” (2+2+1+2=7) You accidentally launch your ninja sword out of your sylladex. Everything goes flying out the window, impaled bird and all.

You...cannot believe that just happened. No one can ever know about this.

You lean out your window to take a look. Yeah, you can kiss all that stuff goodbye. You feel sorry for the bird, but at least you never planned on ever using that beta, ever. 

You've got better things to be spending all your time on, anyway.


	8. Act II: Prepare for Inevitable Confrontation with Guardian… For Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your House
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> passive aggressive one-upmanship, dysfunctional relationship, more math with letters

### Chapter 8: Act II: Prepare for Inevitable Confrontation with Guardian… For Real

You reach the hallway junction safely and prepare to descend the grand stairs to your living room. You are standing eye-to-eye with a familiar foe, a 20-foot tall granite statue of the mighty wizard, Zazzerpan the Learned. Your mother had him installed through a hole in the roof with a heavy-duty crane. He is an archetypical wizard, with a pointy hat and a long, presumably white beard. His glassen gaze is uplifted and his mouth forever open in the midst of incantation. One hand emerges from his voluminous robes to lift a sphere. To behold the wisdom concealed in the furrows of that venerable face is to know the ceaseless joys of bewonderment itself. 

You find this grisly abomination utterly detestable.

You could psychoanalyze your mother's love of wizards, but there is nothing to psychoanalyze. Your mother clearly has no real affinity for these damnable things. She only collects them to spite you. 

If anything, she finds them even more repellent than you do. She's just a committed woman.

You descend to the living room area of your home's expansive open layout. At the bottom of the stairs you pass a much smaller wizard statue, this one including serpentine heads reaching toward the wizard's crystal ball. On the lefthand side of the stairs is a bronze-plated vacuum, mounted on a pedestal. It wasn't always bronzed. A while ago you gave this as an ironic gift to your mom for mother's day. You even customized it with a drink holder to support one of her ubiquitous alcoholic beverages. She leaves it plugged in so it can still be turned on now and then. But never to do any cleaning. It never leaves this display.

In addition to the numerous venerable wizard statues, this side of the room includes two bookshelves on the right wall and a white, U-shaped couch to your left. Ornate carpets are scattered about, doing nothing to muffle the sound of rushing water beneath the floor. It tends to strike guests as a strange presence in a living space, but it's become hardly audible to you through familiarity.

There's the front door ahead of you. But hopefully there's no need to make the long trek around the house in the rain. You might as well see if you can slip through the kitchen and out the back unnoticed.

First, you head over to the couch, where the eldritch princess, once a pretty princess doll, has been sitting for months. You have no intention of moving it, even if it weren't too big to captchalogue. It has been here ever since your mother got this abomination for your birthday as a totally passive-aggressive gesture. You decided to make it much less abominable by knitting Her Majesty a new squid-like head and new tentacle arms. Now it brings a mischievous smile to your face whenever you walk by. Your mother hasn't removed the doll yet, and probably never will. She would never be the one to blink first.

Next to the doll is an umbrella. You acquire it for protection from the elements. U>L. U<V. The umbrella ends up in a leaf card under your violin, which is itself under your laptop. You're going to have a hell of a time accessing that card when you need it. You guess you'll just cross that bridge later.

You peek inside the kitchen, which is reached behind the couch. The counter lines the back of the couch and the two walls that aren't stairs. The liquor bottles are out in full force on the counter. Mom is surely nearby.

While you have a moment, you investigate your refrigerator, whose surfaces have customarily served as the battlefield for a chilly siege of passive-aggressive one-upmanship.

On the center of the freezer door is a drawing you did of your cat Jaspers when you were younger, along with a poem about him. Your mother bought this ostentatious $15,000 frame for it, and had it welded to the door. 

On the lower portion, using the colorful magnet letters, you recently left a succinct message (“shrew”), which may or may not have been directed toward anyone in particular. But you couldn't find the letter W, so you just stuck two V's together. Your mother then purchased a fresh pack of green W's and left them there for your convenience. Appreciative of the thoughtful gesture, you left her a sincere thank you note, which you had legally notarized, and then marked with a drop of blood. But part of it was touching the floor, so your mother was kind enough to lift the lower portion of the document with a purple velvet pillow.

On a whim, you hold a W up to your face as a fake moustache. This is incredibly silly, and you're not sure how it fits into your campaign against your mother, or getting your computer back online to escape your doom! But it's hard to resist getting a little silly sometimes. Especially when you are absolutely positive no one is watching.

You captchalogue the W on a leaf card next to the umbrella. But that unsightly void in the W pack won't do, nor will the gash in the plastic. You deposit 12 cents in its place, which is your approximation of the letter's value. You also make a vow to return later and neatly sew the plastic shut.

How else could you one-up your mother?

You wonder how to address the pillow situation. It seems the woman has you at a clear disadvantage. Perhaps slipping a fresh doily under the pillow will do the trick? Or maybe spilling a bit of worcestershire sauce on it, and then having it dry-cleaned and returned along with a laboriously ingratiating apology note? No, there's no time for anything like that. Or maybe (just thinking out loud here) you could use the entire pack of W's as M's? Oh yes, that would burn. 

But you've already done something with that W pack, and there's no need to go back and gild that lily. This is delicate business. And that pillow is screaming for rebuttal. You decide to take the velvet pillow and lovingly embroider a poem in praise of motherhood on it. Hopefully you can pull this off before she notices it's gone. 

Ve > L. Ve < Vi. Ve > U. The velvet pillow ends up under the umbrella card. But it causes your tree to be pretty badly unbalanced. It surely will auto-balance itself in a moment.

Sure enough, it does. And just like that, the umbrella becomes accessible in the root card. That's one of the things you love about the tree modus. The happy surprises.

Ok, enough's enough. Time to get goiAUGH

Before you can reach the back door, you are confronted by the silhouette of a willowy woman with a martini in one hand and a kitchen mop in the other. You press yourself into the corner of the refrigerator.

You don't know how she does that. You're never safe in this house. 

And of all things to be doing during a power outage. She's up to her ironic housewife routine again. That mop bucket doesn't even have any water in it! What an absolute madwoman.

This bird's gotta fly!

You make a dash across the kitchen, vault over the counter and youth roll onto the couch. Your roll takes you beyond the couch to crash into the coffee table covered with more figurines.

Lousy goddamn stupid wizards.


	9. Act II: John What Are You Doing. Stop Doing Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your house (balcony)
>   * _When:_ the Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> violence to a helpless bunny, and also monsters

###  Chapter 9: Act II: John What Are You Doing. Stop Doing Nothing

You are presently spacing out on the balcony, but a vague and forceful thought jolts you to attention. Or maybe it is that bumping sound coming from the other side of the door. What is that?

A thick, unpleasant fluid pools from beneath the door. When you open it, you find that there is a trail of this fluid in the hall leading to your room. You go through the open doorway.

Once again, the slippery antagonist eludes you. You only find more of these unpleasant oily smears, covering even more of your floor than before. 

Someone is pestering you. Both your PDA and computer register the message. You choose to use your PDA to see if this chum knows what you should do.

TG: alright   
TG: im out of my room now looking for my bros game   
EB: oh, good!   
EB: yeah, there is no sign of rose yet, i hope she is ok   
TG: well if she comes back ill be ready   
TG: you better know what youre talking about cause this could get ugly   
TG: brought my phone and i also took my awesome katana with me in case things get too hot to handle   
TG: and they always do   
EB: you mean that cheap piece of shit you have on your wall?   
TG: FU   
TG: its sharp and its awesome and its a sword   
TG: end of story   
EB: ok i don't really care.   
EB: i'm in my room again, i really think there's someone else in this house.   
EB: like monsters or something.   
TG: howie???   
EB: haha I WISH.   
TG: dude monsters arent real   
TG: thats stupid kids stuff for stupid babies   
EB: maybe. yeah you're right.   
TG: what are you an idiot   
TG: of course there are monsters in your house   
TG: youre in some weird evil monster dimension come on   
TG: skepticism is the crutch of cinematic troglodytes   
TG: like hey mom dad theres a dinosaur or a ghost or whatever in my room. "yeah right junior go back to bed"   
TG: fuck you mom and dad how many times are we going to watch this trope unfold it wasnt goddamn funny the first time i saw it   
TG: just once id like to see dad crap his pants when a kid says theres a vampire in his closet   
TG: "OH SHIT EVERYONE IN THE MINIVAN"   
TG: be fuckin dad of the year right there   
EB: ok ok stop!   
EB: what do i do?   
TG: what do you have a hammer   
TG: man so lame   
TG: ok whatever   
TG: you should look into weaponizing your sylladex   
TG: my bro is always getting on my case about it but man its not as easy as it sounds   
TG: but if youre fighting monsters left and right you dont have much choice   
EB: hmm...   
EB: ok, i guess i can read up on data structures some more.   
EB: how's it going there?   
TG: im out in the living room hes usually here   
TG: but i dont see him   
TG: might be playing his mind games hes always pulling this ninja shit   
TG: all i see is lil cal over there so i guess he cant be far   
EB: hahaha.   
EB: oh god.   
EB: SO LAME.   
TG: what   
EB: see...   
EB: i just don't know why you think it's cool.   
EB: his ventriloquist rapping thing.   
TG: oh lil cal? no man   
TG: lil cal is the shit   
EB: that's fine, you are entitled to your opinion, i am just saying that being a white guy who is a rapper with a ventriloquist doll is not cool by any stretch of the imagination or by any definition of word cool, ironic or otherwise. that's all i'm saying.   
TG: yeah bullshit   
TG: cal is dope   
TG: puppets are awesome   
TG: john egbert blows   
TG: the end   
EB: yeah, more like the opposite of all those things is the thing that is true!   
EB: i'm going to read.   
EB: good luck with your bro.

(READ YOUR BOOK. STAY WARY OF THESE FOES.)

Pff. Monsters. Only retarded babies who poop in their diapers believe in that stuff. But...you think you'll take another look at _Data Structures for Assholes_ , just in case.

You resolutely do not notice the black imp wearing a colorful jester's hat, which is currently “hiding” behind your bed.

(JOHN TURN AROUND!!!!!)

You're trying to read, ok? This book is already unpleasant enough as it is without weird voices in your head nagging you to do things. Even the addition of shitty clip art diagrams in chapter 7 is not really helping you figure out how to weaponize your sylladex. It basically looks like what you've been doing by accident.

Besides, you already said there's no such thing as monsters. 

Fine, you'll interrupt your reading and turn around, but you don't see what could possibly be so—oh my god it's a monster!

The shale imp is a little shorter than you, and dressed in a jester's motley. One sleeve of its short jacket is purple and one is yellow. Its hat has red, green, yellow, and purple floppy things. It is wearing bright green elf shoes. You're really more concerned with the mouth full of pointy teeth and possibility that those are four claws on each of its hands.

Actually, you are most concerned about the fact that it is holding your beloved bunny hostage. This means it's time to strife!

You pull out your sledgehammer. Your normal hammer just won't do with this threat to the bunny. You aggrieve, lifting the hammer as high as your shoulder. “Put the bunny back in the box!”

But the hammer is too heavy for you, and you topple backward. The hammer flies out of your hand and breaks apart as you land on your ass. The imp has the temerity to mock you with the bunny as you lie prone.

This motivates you to get up. You take the handle of the sledgehammer in hand and whale on the imp with it. You get in a few good hits before it returns the favor by smacking you in the face with the bunny. You land on your ass again, thankfully sitting upright this time.

Alright, you've had it! You pick up the head of the sledgehammer, jettisoning a harlequin figurine at the imp. It bounces back so you can pick it up again, this time launching your telescope. You continue in this manner, picking up your most recent projectile to launch another. The towel actually makes the imp flinch back. The cruxite dowel hits you on the rebound, but you hardly care. You make an effort to catch the PDA before it smashes, and the final launch turns the imp into pink and blue gushers (well, shale and build grist) for you to collect.

Your spoils collected, you pick up the bedraggled, oil-spattered bunny.

_You said. Put the bunny. Back in. The box!!!!!!_

You pick up the box and throw the bunny in so forcefully that it falls right through the bottom.

Now why couldn't he put the bunny back in the box?

The amazing victory allows you to scale the first two achievement rungs on your echeladder. Each of the many rungs has a different title. You are now a “Plucky Tot,” bypassing “Juvesquirt,” with a new pink feather in your cap to show for it. You may indulge in a victory dance to celebrate.

The echeladder rewards your bold ascent with 125 boondollars. You waste little time in storing them in your blue ceramic porkhollow. Additionally, climbing the rungs has boosted your gel viscosity and cache limit. By expanding your cache limit, you've made room for all that nice grist you just collected. You now have 32 fragments of build grist, and 10 fragments of shale, with a capacity of 50 of each.

You also found a green card on the floor under the bunny. It seems the shale imp had allocated the bunny to its strife specibus. 

Sort of a stupid thing to use for a weapon, but you might as well grab it, and stick the bunny in your strife deck while you're at it. It will at the very least be safer there. You group the two specibi in your strife portfolio. It has several pockets for holding up to sixteen specibi cards.

No self-respecting strifer would be caught dead without one.

Oddly enough, it seems breaking the sledgehammer altered the abstratus from hammerkind to handlekind, even going as far as expelling the head of your smaller hammer from your deck to force compliance. You didn't even notice in the heat of the battle. 

You grab the sledgehammer handle, expelling the useless broken harlequin figurine.

You merge the sledgehammer head with its handle, and return it to your strife deck, repairing the hammerkind abstratus in the process. The smaller hammer handle is ejected from the deck, since of course handles of any sort no longer belong in there. Obviously.

(FINE. NOW WHAT.)

Dave is pestering you. But you don't have time to deal with his nonsense right now. Something is amiss in your room. You can't quite put your finger on it...


	10. Act II: Acquire Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your house (living room)
>   * _When:_ Several minutes before the present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Deceased felines, Mother-daughter strifing, Desecration of burial site

### Chapter 10: Act II: Acquire Power

You launch yourself into another youth roll toward the front door. Just before you obtain your objective, you collide with an obstacle. Your mother has relocated from the kitchen to the front door, martini in hand. The only way past is to strife!

You aggrieve like a many-armed tentacle creature, lashing out nearly continuously with your needles. Alas, her blotto-parry is impenetrable. Next you try to (passive)-aggress, which involves brief feints of your needles toward the nearest power socket and elicits no response from your mom.

When you abjure, your mother draws from her guardian rubric and retaliates with ironic indulgence. That is to say, she offers you a beautiful pony with a huge pink bow in its mane. Abstaining provokes ironic negligence, with an alcoholic beverage held close to your face. You simply cannot win, and concede defeat.

It looks like Mom has satisfied her strife quota for the day. She simply returns to her housework, dusting Zazzerpan the Learned. 

No point in going out the front door anymore. Might as well head out the back, like you originally planned.

First you give the pony, Maplehoof, a begrudging pat on the snout. You recognize that your struggles with Mom aren't her fault.

Your way through the kitchen is now unimpeded. You leave through the back door with a sigh of relief. 

To your left is the transformer which distributes electricity from the underground generator powered by the river flowing beneath your house. It looks like the transformer was struck by lightning though, and no longer works. You wonder if your mother has any plans to have it fixed. You guess she'd rather just play her mind games in a dark house like a weirdo. 

You can see the mausoleum and the portable generator across your back yard. You're almost there.

However, it is still raining. This appears to be an ideal time to utilize that umbrella. When you pull the umbrella from the root card, everything else in your sylladex pours down like rain. Most of it hits your umbrella before reaching the ground. You laptop fortunately lands on the velvet pillow. Your violin has no such protection.

With a sigh, you regather your items and begin the soggy trek mausoleum-ward, leaving the W behind. You squint against the rain and the glare of the nearby flames.

You finally reach the mausoleum, which is marked with the head of a cat at the apex of the roof. You hurry to fire up the generator and drag a cord into the mausoleum. It of course would be foolish to run the generator inside a confined space. Generator safety is everyone's business.

The inside of the tomb is dry, if not exactly comfortable. A small coffin rests on a slab in the center of the room. There is a circular window in the wall at the head of the coffin, beneath which is a bas-relief of an angelic cat with no legs.

You feel absolutely no compunction in defiling the tomb. You kick the coffin off the slab. Sorry, Jaspers. Have to make space for the laptop. 

Besides, your final resting place is already a mockery. You should have decomposed years ago under a bed of petunias like a normal cat. Not been given to a taxidermist and fitted with a tiny, custom-tailored suit, and then stuffed in a coffin built for infants.

You pull out your laptop, once again expelling everything else in your sylladex, but you're not about to get bent out of shape about it. You have bigger fish to fry. You plug in the laptop and connect to the internet signal again.

Looks like Dave noticed you're back online. He pesters you like clockwork. You are certain he has nothing significant to relay, or at least nothing that takes precedence over John's situation, so you return your attention to the Sburb server program.

And there's John in the server screen. What on earth is he up to now? He's standing in his oil-smeared room, right next to the door.

Wait...door?

The door you yanked off its hinges and left propped on John's bed during the hurry to get John into the Medium? Someone or something has put it back and left it slightly ajar.

It seems John notices the door at the same time you do, because he goes to investigate it. He immediately triggers a prank. The bucket propped on top of the door was hidden from your view by the game controls at the top of your screen, or you might have entertained the notion of warning him.

“Hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo!”

You notice the author of this outrageous prank floating in front of the window only a moment before John turns to do the same. It is a blue specter greatly resembling John's Nanna, with oval glasses and similar buck teeth. However, she is wearing a jester's collar and maimed hat and possesses one arm, much like the level one tier prototyped sprite. You presume that the ashes from the mantel prototyped the sprite the second time, and consequentially impressed Nanna's attributes onto the harlequin.

While John is busy getting over his shock in order to greet his Nannasprite, you answer Dave on Pesterchum. Since you will probably remain in your present location for some time, you make a seat out of your Grimoire and the velvet pillow.

TG: oh there you are   
TG: john said your house was burning down are you on fire yet or what   
TT: No. For now I have retired to the safety of a smaller building which is much closer to the forest fire threatening my residence.   
TG: oh well thats a relief   
TG: john told me to get the game to help get you out of there so im working on that now   
TT: Working on it?   
TG: yeah my bros copy long story   
TG: hey   
TG: dont tell john this but i think he might have been right about the puppets   
TG: theyre sort of starting to freak me out a little   
TT: You're referring to your brother's collection?   
TG: i mean dont get me wrong i think its cool and all   
TG: the semi-ironic puppet thing or whatever   
TG: or semi-semi ironic   
TG: man i dont even know   
TG: im just starting to think some of this shit is going a little far and its kind of fucked up   
TT: I've seen his websites.   
TT: I like them.   
TG: haha yeah well YOU WOULD   
TG: oh man i wish lil cal wouldnt look at me like that   
TG: with those dead eyes jesus   
TG: sometimes i dream that hes real and hes talking to me and i wake up in a cold sweat and basically flip the fuck out   
TT: Interesting...   
TG: oh god why did i just tell you my dream   
TG: youre going to have a field day with that   
TT: I am currently scrawling notes furiously into one of the many psychoanalysis journals I maintain for you. Published papers forthcoming.   
TT: Because, you know, it's not like either of us have anything better to do at the moment than to evaluate each other's radically debilitating pathologies.   
TG: yeah im gonna get moving   
TG: oh have you heard from john   
TG: hes not answering me   
TT: He won't answer me either.   
TT: But I am watching him.   
TT: I suspect he is preoccupied with the fact that he just had a bucket of water dumped on his head by the ghost of his dead grandmother, who also happens to be dressed like a clown.   
TG: hahahahaha   
TG: alright im out   
TG: later

You turn your attention back to John and swiftly read over the spritelog recording the beginning of his conversation with the sprite.

JOHN: um... nanna?   
NANNASPRITE: Yes, dear!   
JOHN: wow, you scared the living daylights out of me!   
NANNASPRITE: Hoo hoo hoo!   
JOHN: well, i guess it was a really great prank. good one nanna.   
JOHN: anyway, are you REALLY my dead nanna?   
NANNASPRITE: Of course, John! I have come back to help you on your journey through The Medium and beyond! I am delighted to see what a fine young man you have turned out to be. Just like your father!   
JOHN: ok, i guess i will take your word for it. i don't remember you at all! my dad said i was really young when you died.   
JOHN: hey speaking of which, do you know where he is??? i looked everywhere for him!  
NANNASPRITE: Your father was kidnapped!   
JOHN: oh no!   
NANNASPRITE: When you crossed over to The Medium, he was apprehended by the very forces of darkness which your presence here has awakened.   
JOHN: what? ok, so what is the medium you are talking about?   
NANNASPRITE: It is where we are now! A realm that is a ring of pure void, dividing light and darkness. It turns in the thick of The Incipisphere, a place untouched by the flow of time in your universe.   
JOHN: you mean because we are inside a computer, or in the game software or something?   
NANNASPRITE: A computer? Why, what is that, dear? Some new fangled contraption, like the horseless auto-boxcar?   
JOHN: well, uh, it's like this machine that, uh...   
NANNASPRITE: Hoo hoo hoo! Of course I know what a computer is, John! I was just pulling your leg! Hoo hoo hoo!   
JOHN: oh, ok.   
NANNASPRITE: No, John. You are not inside a computer or software or anything like that! Try not to be so linear, dear. The software that brought you here was merely a mechanism that served as a gateway! Its routines in a way served to invoke this realm's instance, yet it stands independently of any physical machine, and somewhat paradoxically, always has!   
JOHN: i'm not sure i get it, but alright.   
JOHN: so what do i actually need to be doing here?   
NANNASPRITE: I think it would be best if we started with the big picture!

Like the curtains of a theater opening, Nanna relays her knowledge of Skaia, a planet covered in clouds. If nothing else, John's Nanna knows how to tell a good story.

NANNASPRITE: Above The Medium, beyond The Seven Gates, residing at the core of The Incipisphere is a place known as Skaia.   
NANNASPRITE: Legend holds that Skaia exists as a dormant crucible of unlimited creative potential. What does this mean, you ask? I'm afraid my lips are sealed about that, dear! Hoo hoo!   
NANNASPRITE: But needless to say, where a realm of such profound importance is concerned, forces of light will forever be charged with its defense, while forces of darkness will just as persistently covet its destruction!  
NANNASPRITE: And as it so happens, at the center of this realm whose fate is in question, these very forces duel on a stage, stuck in eternal stalemate. 

You picture a chessboard with nine squares, and two kings chasing each other around the edges.

NANNASPRITE: Yes, they have dueled in this manner forever... that is, until you showed up!  
JOHN: ME??   
NANNASPRITE: Yes, you, John!   
NANNASPRITE: Before your mishap with my ashes, you may recall the Sprite's previous incarnation, which resulted from its Kernel's "hatching".   
NANNASPRITE: You see, this hatching occurs automatically in response to your arrival! The result is a pair of Kernels, one dark, one light, each carrying the information they were prototyped with before the hatch!   
NANNASPRITE: One goes down, to a kingdom entrenched in darkness. The other, up, to a kingdom basking in light! Each comes to rest in an Orb atop a Spire, of which there are three others in kind. The Four Spires are situated above a throne, and these two thrones preside over the two respective Sovereign Powers! 

The chessboard in your mind is now much bigger, 12x12, and populated with more pieces wearing harlequin hats.

NANNASPRITE: And once the Kernels are situated, that is when the game is afoot. The true war begins, light versus dark, good versus evil.   
NANNASPRITE: This is a war that the forces of light are always destined to lose, without exception!

Destined to lose? You do not really care for the sound of that.

JOHN: wow, really? then what's the point?   
NANNASPRITE: That remains for you to find out, dear! For you see, the journey you are about to take is The Ultimate Riddle!   
JOHN: whoa!!!   
NANNASPRITE: For now, your objective is to proceed towards Skaia, and pass through The First Gate situated directly above your house, not even terribly far! The Gates will become progressively more difficult to reach, so you had better be prepared to sharpen your adventuring skills!   
JOHN: how am i supposed to get up there?   
NANNASPRITE: You build!

John seems to find the prospect exciting, judging by his spazzing. You are a little less enthused. Nothing about this game has been straightforward thus far, and you are certain the reality will be more convoluted than Nanna is making it sound.

There is also the fact that you are going to be the one accomplishing the construction, while keeping an eye on the rain of meteors and the accompanying blaze outside.

JOHN: ok, i think i get it now!   
JOHN: so i guess the battle against good and evil is sort of irrelevant? well, i don't know, that all sounds kind of weird, but in any case, we build the house to get to these gates, and then i can save my dad!   
NANNASPRITE: Yes, John!   
JOHN: and then after that, we solve this ultimate riddle thing and save earth from destruction!!!   
NANNASPRITE: Oh no, I'm afraid not!

And...the penny drops. You sigh.

NANNASPRITE: Your planet is done for, dear! There is nothing you can do about that!   
JOHN: oh... 

The smile drops off John's face, and his antics cease. You are not sure you care for that downtrodden expression on his face. 

NANNASPRITE: Your purpose is so much more important than saving that silly old planet, though!   
JOHN: and that is?   
NANNASPRITE: HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO!  
NANNASPRITE: John, you are such a good boy! I know you will succeed.   
JOHN: thanks, nanna.   
NANNASPRITE: You are a good boy, and good boys deserve treats!   
JOHN: hooray!   
NANNASPRITE: I am going to go bake you some cookies.   
JOHN: …

Nannasprite phases through the _Con Air_ poster on the wall, leaving blue ectoplasm behind. John doesn't even seem to notice, frowning darkly. You pester John, seeking to discuss Nannasprite's revelations.

TT: John, what are you doing?   
TT: Snap out of it.   
TT: We ought to discuss what your grandmother told you, don't you think?   
TT: Fine. Enjoy your stupor.   
TT: I'll go about my business elsewhere.

It seems, however, that John is throwing some kind of fit. You pick up the red box on his bed to give John a swift drubbing in the noggin, but he is undeterred. That is some fit he is throwing, abjuring the air and clutching his head.

Perhaps you will take this spare moment to contemplate the Nannasprite's strange tale. It may also behoove you to record your thoughts on these developments in your GameFAQs walkthrough/journal. It can be hard finding time to update it. In fact, you're not even sure where you found the time to write what's already there!

You glance over and see Jaspers' eyes fixed on you from inside his coffin, mockingly silent.

Oh is that so, Jaspers? And just who do you think you're looking at with that smug grin??? 

The last thing you need is sass from a dead cat. It's pretty much all his fault you're in this mess in the first place, so he can just button it.


	11. Act II: Learn Some Manners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ WV
>   * _Where:_ Command terminal
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Eating things that aren't meant to be eaten, really short chapter (I promise this character gets a decent chapter soon)

###  Chapter 11: Act II: Learn Some Manners

_Years in the future… but not enough to write home about…_

You do not understand why John will not get the cookies that the hag mentioned. You would love to have cookies!

`>JOHN. COOKIES. NOW.`

With a firm headshake, John refuses outright! 

`>THIS IMPUDENCE IS INSUFFERABLE. GO GET THE COOKIES!!!!!`

Well when you put it so politely, how can John decline??

John grabs a pillow off his bed and presses it against his face. This seems strange to you

`>JOHN YOU ARE STUPID.`

You really need to work on your manners. This boy John is really frustrating.

`>STUPID STUPID DUMB`

That's not a command. It's nothing. 

It's stupid. 

You're stupid.

John drops the pillow and crosses the room, flipping you off from the edge of the screen.

`>FOR THE LAST TIME I COMMAnd you to get the cookies boy`

An agitated finger slips mid-keystroke. To your surprise, the purple box near your console that is closest to the doorway opens, spilling a portion of its contents on the ground. You leave the keyboard and hurry over to investigate.

First you pick up a can of beans and a can of mustard, looking back and forth between the two. You would eat them both at once if you could!

There is also a huge book titled Human Etiquette, and a small potted plant. Curious, you open the book.

Your studious eye darts about a page like a honeybee gathering the nectar of wisdom.

This page shows a silhouette of a “typical human” and a small wrapped creature saying certain phrases like “please” and “splendid and you?” This is how favor is mutually curried.

You tear the page out and munch on it.

The next page discusses the elixir known as tea.

You eat this page too.


	12. Act II: Update Walkthrough

### Chapter 12: Act II: Update Walkthrough

(She's not finished with this yet! Jeez, cut her some slack. 

Maybe you could go bug someone somewhere else for a while? Or at the very least, somewhen else.)


	13. Act II: Discuss Presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ Months in the past
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Mention of dead pet

###  Chapter 13: Act II: Discuss Presents

Snow blankets your house and falls steadily from the overcast sky above. Despite the snow, the river beneath the building never stops flowing. You could watch fat flakes lazily drift by your panoramic window and accumulate on the tree branch just outside, but you have other concerns at the moment.

You are seated at your desk, typing on your laptop. Beside you is a blue box and a bag containing several skeins of purple yarn and two knitting needles. On your screen, a friend has just messaged you.

GG: hi happy birthday rose!!! <3   
TT: Hello, and thanks.   
GG: did you get johns present yet?   
TT: I just opened it this very moment. What a stunning coincidence you would ask about it now. I am stunned.   
GG: yeah i know!!   
GG: what will you make with it?   
TT: And who said it was something from which something else could be made?   
GG: well john did tell me what it was duh.....   
TT: I suppose I'll take a stab at learning the craft.   
TT: It's the least I can do in response to the subtle dig concealed in his gesture.   
TT: He often tells me I "need a new hobby" when I make perfectly reasonable analytical remarks.   
GG: oh but rose i dont think he meant anything like that by it!!   
GG: you see not everybody always means the opposite of what they say the way you and dave always do   
TT: Maybe.   
TT: His birthday is in a few months, isn't it?   
GG: yep!   
GG: i finally finished a present for him   
GG: ive been working on it for years!!!!   
TT: Years?   
TT: It's so hard to tell when you're joking.   
TT: Or if you're even capable of it.   
GG: heheheh.... :)   
GG: i just mailed it too so it is sure to get there on time   
GG: mail takes a while to get anywhere from here!!!   
TT: I'll probably craft something with strong sentimental value.   
TT: That should burn him.   
GG: i dont think you really mean that!   
TT: I guess not.   
TT: So, shall I expect a green package dropped to my house via airmail from whatever screwball cranny of the globe you're tucked into?   
GG: err.......   
GG: no :(   
GG: sorry but you are sort of hard shop for   
GG: besides i have something for you today that i think you will like better than some thing in a box!  
TT: Oh?   
GG: it is a tip!!!!   
TT: This is already intriguing enough to compensate for the grave scarcity of lavish gifts parachuting from the sky. Please go on.   
GG: did you have a pet a long time ago that died?   
TT: Yes.   
GG: ok well how did you feel about your cat, did you love him a lot?   
TT: "ok well", I didn't mention it was a cat, or that it was a male. Let's pretend I'm surprised and you're embarrassed and move on.   
TT: To answer your question, I would describe my feelings toward the animal as lukewarm.   
GG: ummmmm ok....   
GG: thats fine!!!   
GG: it doesnt really matter i think, just.....   
GG: what if someone told you you could play a game that would bring him back to life?   
TT: If someone told me that, I would regard the remark with a great deal of skepticism.   
TT: If that someone was you, on the other hand, then I would have to ask preemptively:   
TT: Is that someone you?   
GG: yes that someone is me!!!!!!!!   
GG: i just thought you might find it interesting   
TT: So what is this game?   
GG: oh i dont know   
GG: im just saying is all   
GG: i think youll hear about it later and maybe you can talk to john and dave about it   
GG: they are way more into all that stuff than i am!!!!   
TT: I'll see what the word on the street is about it. In due time.   
TT: For now I should probably order a copy of Knitting for Assholes. It would be a shame if I ran late with John's present.

You already know just what you will make. 


	14. Act II: Get the Server Disc… Take 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ Several hours before the present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Puppets, suggestive themes, disturbing imagery, unparalleled levels of irony

### Chapter 14: Act II: Get the Server Disc… Take 2

You're almost done patching up the hole in your window with the gaffer tape. 

But it's sort of hard to get any work done when people keep pestering you all day. You guess you better get that. You sit in your director's chair and pull up Pesterchum.

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 18:36 — 

GG: hi dave!!   
TG: hey sup   
GG: not much sup with you!!   
GG: bro! hehehe   
TG: haha   
TG: good one   
TG: s'alright being chill i guess you know how it goes   
GG: great! feeling cool today?   
GG: mr cool guy?   
TG: oh man you know it   
GG: sooooo cooooooool!!!   
TG: you know shit is ice cold up in here   
TG: shit is wicked bananas i am telling you   
GG: :D   
GG: so have you talked to john today???   
TG: yeah we were just talking a while ago about how he sucks at his sylladex   
TG: can you believe he uses stack that kid is ridiculous   
GG: lol   
GG: well that doesnt sound like much fun!   
TG: what was it you use again...   
TG: wait nm   
TG: i forgot whenever we talk about your goofy modusses i get a migrane. what do you want with john   
GG: :)   
GG: i want to tell him happy birthday and ask him about his birthday package!   
TG: oh yeah   
TG: i was being sort of cagey and told him to check the mail cause i was wondering if mine came yet   
GG: i think it did!   
TG: yeah?   
GG: and i think mine came too   
TG: so uh   
TG: i guess you want to know if he likes it or something?   
GG: no!!!!!!!   
GG: he will not open it   
GG: he will lose it!!!   
TG: oh   
TG: uh   
TG: wow sorry to hear that i guess?   
GG: no its good actually!   
GG: because he will find it again later when he really needs it   
GG: which of course is why i sent it in the first place!   
TG: see like   
TG: i never get how you know these things   
GG: i dont know   
GG: i just know that i know!   
TG: hmm alright   
GG: anyway i have to go!   
GG: i have to feed bec which is always a bit of an undertaking   
TG: man   
TG: if i were you i would just take that fucking devilbeast out behind the woodshed and blow its head off   
GG: heheheh!   
GG: i dont think i could if i tried!!!   
TG: yeah   
TG: say hi to your grand dad for me too ok   
GG: ._.   
GG: yes i guess an encounter with him is almost certain   
GG: it is usually........   
GG: intense!!!   
TG: well yeah isnt it always with family   
TG: but he sounds like a total badass   
GG: yeah he totally is!!!   
GG: anyway gotta go!   
TG: see ya   
GG: <3

You go grab your phone from your turntables. It will be handy to have your phone (2+2+1+2+1 = 8%10 = 8) on standby so you won't always have to go back to your computer whenever someone pesters you. This way you can text message (2+1+2+2 + 2+1+2+2+1+2+1 = 18%10 = 8) people no matter where you are or what outrageously cool thing you're up to.

So, card 8 previously held the towel, which lands on your head.

So. Cool.

Since you still have nothing important you should be doing, you spend some more time on the computer. First you leave a message with Egbert, who doesn't answer. 

TG: hey GG is looking for you why are you even so popular all of a sudden   
TG: is today some sort of special occasion or something   
TG: did you do something to curry favor with ladies   
TG: did you break your leg on a puppy or some shit   
TG: dude what are you doing 

Pesterchum goes idle before he finally answers. When he does, the two of you just talk about his nerdy celebrities, how awful he still is with his sylladex, and the fact you wear the gift he got you a couple months back for your birthday as a study in layers of ironic humor. You tell him to bone up on data structures because seriously, and then leave him to do whatever Egbert does whenever not subject your sick rhymes. 

He thinks he mastered ironic celebrity birthday gifts by getting you Ben Stiller's shades, but you know better. You know that as soon as he opens your gift to him, he's going to know who the real master of ironic celebrity memorabilia is. 

You mess around with your computer and music for a while, playing it cool even though your other friend was pretty sure he received it. Then, when enough time has passed, you pester him about it, but shit is apparently going down.

TG: i heard you got the box   
TG: i hope you appreciate my heroic fatherly perseverance in getting it to you   
TG: in my rough and tumble dirty wifebeaterly sort of way   
TG: also i hope you appreciate how many no-talent douches had their mitts on that bunny before you   
TG: its like a grubby baton in some huge douchebag marathon   
TG: hey where are you   
EB: oh man, the bunny was awesome, but i don't have time to talk, i'm playing sburb and it's kind of a nightmare.   
EB: TT is breaking everything in my house.   
TG: dude i told you to steer clear of that game   
TG: and for that matter you should probably wash your hands of flighty broads and their snarky horseshit altogether   
EB: and now there's a meteor coming, and i'm not even joking about that!!!   
EB: it's like a big asteroid or comet or something.   
EB: in the sky.   
EB: heading right for my house!!!!!!!!   
TG: oh man   
TG: how big is it   
EB: i dunno.   
EB: big, i guess.   
EB: i gotta go!   
EB: we'll talk later if i am still alive and the earth isn't blown up.   
TG: like the size of texas   
TG: or just rhode island   
TG: theyre always throwing around these geographical comparisons to give us a sense of scale like it really means anything to us   
TG: but its like it doesnt matter its always just like: WOW THATS PRETTY FUCKING BIG   
TG: like mr president theres a meteor coming sir. oh yeah, how big is it? its the size of texas sir   
TG: OH SHIT   
TG: or, how big is it? its the size of new york city sir   
TG: OH SHIT   
TG: sir im afraid the comet is the size of your moms dick   
TG: OH SNAP   
TG: sir are you familiar with jupiter   
TG: you mean like the planet?   
TG: yeah   
TG: well its that big sir   
TG: hmm that sounds pretty big   
TG: i have a question   
TG: is it jupiter?   
TG: yes sir, earth is literally under seige by planet fucking jupiter   
TG: OH SHIT   
TG: anyway later

And the time after that, when you try to share some sick rhymes, he's in even more of a hurry. You're starting to think this shit is real. He breaks into your rhymes to ask you to play Sburb so you can save Lalonde's life.

You did promise to play the game if her life depended on it. Guess you have no choice now.

You captchalogue your katana (2+1+2+1+2+1 = 9%10 = 9) and prepare to venture out into the apartment to retrieve your bro's copy of the game. 

But first, maybe... 

Just maybe...

You take another look out the window at the dead bird, wondering if you could retrieve it.

Dude, that bird is long gone. It probably won't last long in this heat anyway. 

You don't even know what's up with this sick heat. The sun threatens to set but won't step off. It's staring you down, like the big red eye of a hot needle skipping on a groove its tracing 'round the earth. While lingering in midair its heat seems to suspend time itself, stretching it like warped vinyl. It's meant to rain this season but there ain't been a drop in sight. Even a little drizzle would help. Might help to fizzle this sizzle a little bizzle, set the record straight on this global turn-tizzle.

> "So don't change the dizzle, turn it up a little  
>  I got a living room full of fine dime brizzles  
>  Waiting on the Pizzle, the Dizzle and the Shizzle  
>  G's to the bizzack, now ladies here we gizmo 

> When the pimp's in the crib ma  
>  Drop it like it's hot  
>  Drop it like it's hot  
>  Drop it like it's hot..." 

-English Romantic poet, John Keats

You are at the top of one skyscraper among many. You are not far enough away from the ground to avoid the chorus of sirens, car horns, and gunning engines that plays constantly in the city. The dead bird, along with the beta, are on a neighboring rooftop, well out of your reach without some seriously sick stunts.

You exit your room, headed for the living room. This time you pull down the pimp daddy puppet hanging in the doorway. 

Sorry little dude, coming through. Gotta put you down for a bit. 

You figure you've left him hanging long enough.

You barge into the room and see a familiar face. A friendly face. 

It's your brother's Mr. T puppet, which of course is kept in the apartment with a sense of profound humorous irony. But as usual with your bro's exploits, this is no ordinary irony, or anything close to a pedestrian tier 1 ironic gesture which is a meager single step removed from sincerity. This is like ten levels of irony removed from the original joke. It might have been funny like eight years ago to joke about Mr. T and how he was sort of lame, but that was the very thing that made him awesome and badass, and that his awesomeness was also sort of the joke. But in this case, the joke is the joke, and that degree of irony itself is also the joke, and so on. 

Only highly adept satirical ninjas like you and your bro can appreciate stuff like this. It's cool taking stuff that other people think is funny but you know really isn't, and making it funny again by adding subtle strata of irony which are utterly undetectable to the untrained eye. 

Also, for good measure, Mr. T is wearing a leather thong and handcuffed to a pantsless Chuck Norris puppet. 

God you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day. You'd never tell him that though.

You stand in the living room. Your bro spends most of his days in here. At night he crashes on the futon in the center of the room. You don't see him anywhere though. 

There's the puppet chest he stores Lil' Cal in when he takes him out on gigs. But when he's home he usually leaves Cal on display somewhere. And with good reason cause Cal is totally sweet. 

So sweet. 

Man.

You would totally find Lil' Cal and give him fistbumps, he's so cool, but Cal's nowhere in sight. All you see is a bunch of your Bro's weird nude puppets strewn around haphazardly. They all have long noses and plump rumps.

You... 

You guess these things are kinda cool. 

Sort of...

You head over to the huge flatscreen TV, planning to play some Xbox. It looks like your bro was playing. It's not like him to leave in the middle of some totally intense gaming. 

Not like him to misplace Cal either... man you hope the little guy's alright.

When you turn away from the TV, your eyes widen behind your shades. Lil' Cal is suddenly sitting on the speaker-box beside the TV. 

Oh there you are dude. Didn't see you there. 

The ventriloquist's dummy is almost as big as you are. He is wearing a backwards baseball cap, a blue shirt that says “CAL,” and little bowtie and some bling. His round, glassy blue eyes have a mesmerizing stare, and there is something about his rosy cheeks and red-lipped grin with the one gold tooth...

We be chill today, Cal? Yeah you better fuckin' believe we be chill. 

Cal is the man.

You're on a mission, so you do your best to resist the urge to play Bro's Xbox.

You fail to resist the urge. You load up a skateboarding game and get comfortable on the futon.

You start thrashing up stunts something uncannybrutal on your quest for "MAD SNACKS YO" and get this way rude hunger under control. Shit is basically flying off the hook. It's like shit wants nothing to do with that hook. The hook is dead to that shit. 

But you get stuck in some poorly modeled 3D fixture or something. Like a railing or a piece of the wall? You'll have to reset. 

Fuck this shit.

Aw man you almost forgot. Gotta give the C-man some props. You pick up one of Lil' Cal's white-gloved hands so you can fist-bump it above your head. Then you get up and look to your left, at your bro's stuff.

Your bro has so much sweet gear it's hard to keep up with it all sometimes. There's his computer setup. The screen is way bigger than yours. He's usually got a lot of stuff cooking on here at any given moment. 

Since he's not around you might as well sneak a peep.

You are greeted with a gray baseball cap and pointy anime shades on a white screen. Beneath the image is the phrase “OH HELL NO” and a text box. Your bro's computer is password protected of course to protect all the incredible top secret shit he's got on the burners. 

Of course you know what the password is, and he knows you know it, and you're both cool with that because the password is the most awesome thing it can be. Six letters later you are looking at his desktop: a hodgepodge of unnamed folders to store all the stuff he's working on. No one can decipher his organization system but him. 

He also tends to use the application Complete Bullshit to keep up with the ludicrous amount of websites and news feeds he monitors to stay hip to the scene.

You open the content aggregator. The screen is covered with dozens of colored columns, or feedbands, each representing a website Bro is watching. The stripes in the center are wide enough to see the wrapped text from the websites. This is Complete Bullshit.

Your bro keeps up with your projects in his aggregator, just like you keep up with his. He's tuned into your various blogs, and of course “Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff.”

You navigate to the latest comic in one of the many bullshit feedbands to see if there is a sweet update.

You also mouse over the orange stripe containing PlushRump, another one of your bro's many ironic websites. The difference here is he rakes in thousands of dollars a month through this enterprise.

The front page is active with video clips from only the most ironic puppets, buttons for credit cards and Paypal, and a live, 24/7 puppet chat. The right hand side of the screen is dominated by pics of big squishy plush puppet rump. This biznasty is so ironic you're not sure even you completely understand it.

Smuppets are a multi-billion dollar a year enterprise, and it's awfully hard to resist taking a firm squeeze from the plump udder of that cash cow.

You guess you've messed around on his computer long enough. Better get a move on before it's too late for Rose, or worse yet, your bro catches you. 

But my God... the rumps. They are transfixing. 

You know this is ironic and all, and your bro reaches echelons of irony you could only dream of daring to fathom. But on rare occasions, when your guard is down, it all seems just a tad unsettling to you.

You glance sidelong at Lil' Cal, sitting on the speaker next to you, and you could swear he was on the other side of the TV a minute ago.

Oh. Uh... 

Hey... 

Hey there, Cal.

You give Cal a nervous fist-bump. 

There sure are a lot of puppets in here: Lil' Cal, smuppets flopped everywhere around the room, the jerking puppets on the puppet cams on the website, the muppets poster on the wall... They're everywhere, man. You are sort of starting to flip the fuck out. Without losing your cool of course.

To ease your nerves, you get Egbert on the line again to give him the lowdown on your progress. You feel it's important to keep the wires hot. 

But he's not answering. You wonder what that guy is up to.

TG: hey what is up   
TG: what happened with the monster that is totally definitely in your room did you kill it   
TG: where are you man   
TG: anyway   
TG: things are cool here   
TG: totally cool   
TG: puppets are still awesome   
TG: no problems with them or anything   
TG: like   
TG: just   
TG: really really awesome

You close the chat window and pull up your Pesterchum app. Looks like Rose is finally logged in again. Didn't John say her house was burning down? You wonder if she's on fire yet or what. 

TG: oh there you are   
TG: john said your house was burning down are you on fire yet or what   
TT: No. For now I have retired to the safety of a smaller building which is much closer to the forest fire threatening my residence.   
TG: oh well thats a relief   
TG: john told me to get the game to help get you out of there so im working on that now   
TT: Working on it?   
TG: yeah my bros copy long story 

Oh man, Lalonde would have a field day with that story. Yeah, you're never going to tell her about it.

TG: hey   
TG: dont tell john this but i think he might have been right about the puppets   
TG: theyre sort of starting to freak me out a little   
TT: You're referring to your brother's collection?   
TG: i mean dont get me wrong i think its cool and all   
TG: the semi-ironic puppet thing or whatever   
TG: or semi-semi ironic   
TG: man i dont even know   
TG: im just starting to think some of this shit is going a little far and its kind of fucked up   
TT: I've seen his websites.   
TT: I like them.   
TG: haha yeah well YOU WOULD   
TG: oh man i wish lil cal wouldnt look at me like that   
TG: with those dead eyes jesus   
TG: sometimes i dream that hes real and hes talking to me and i wake up in a cold sweat and basically flip the fuck out   
TT: Interesting...   
TG: oh god why did i just tell you my dream   
TG: youre going to have a field day with that   
TT: I am currently scrawling notes furiously into one of the many psychoanalysis journals I maintain for you. Published papers forthcoming.   
TT: Because, you know, it's not like either of us have anything better to do at the moment than to evaluate each other's radically debilitating pathologies.   
TG: yeah im gonna get moving   
TG: oh have you heard from john   
TG: hes not answering me   
TT: He won't answer me either.   
TT: But I am watching him.   
TT: I suspect he is preoccupied with the fact that he just had a bucket of water dumped on his head by the ghost of his dead grandmother, who also happens to be dressed like a clown.   
TG: hahahahaha   
TG: alright im out   
TG: later


	15. Act II: Snap Out Of It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ the Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Reckless pogoing

### Chapter 15: Act II: Snap Out Of It

Your head clears. You are no longer torn between warring cookie whims.

You glance out your window and see little black monsters just hanging out, wearing bowler hats and beagle puss glasses and climbing on the tire swing. Your eyes narrow. This is not acceptable. 

Your realize that Pesterchum has been trying to get your attention for a couple minutes. You pull out the PDA and find that Rose has left several messages for you.

TT: John, whenever you read this, you should know I put the shale you collected to use and finally deployed the Punch Designix.   
TT: It is in your study.   
TT: I can only drop it though. You'll have to be the one to mess around with it and see what it does.   
TT: When you're finished with your weird histrionics, maybe you could give it a try?   
TT: I'm updating my walkthrough, and it would help to know what it does.   
TT: Also, I should probably warn you that your house and yard are completely infested with monsters now. Try to be careful.   
EB: so i can see.   
EB: stupid lousy imps.   
EB: they're mucking up all my cool stuff!   
TT: Oh, there you are.   
EB: oh, yeah.   
EB: sorry!   
EB: i'm not sure what came over me there, i was acting really crazy for some reason.   
EB: but my head feels like it's clearing up, i think i'm alright now. 

You put away the PDA and take a beep breath.

You've got work to do.

You efficiently rebuild your claw hammer and return it to your strife specibus. You are getting way better at this sort of thing.

As you leave your room, you think you should confront your pogo ride to prepare yourself for Nanna. Thank God your sanity has returned so you can entertain extremely rational, coherent thoughts like this one. 

You examine the pogo ride from the bathroom window. You do not like what you see, scowling and shaking your fist. There is an imp playing your piano on the lawn (which, Rose must have moved there, for some reason?), another devouring a cake, and a third riding your pogo ride with rampant disregard for the safety of self or others.

Those sons of bitches. _No one_ risks painful injury on your green slime ghost pogo ride. 

No one but _you_.

The piano suddenly drops out of the sky, cutting the imp's ill-advised ride short. Rose must have picked it up. The piano now lies broken in half, exposing the strings. But if it hadn't been slain in its valiant effort, it would have raked in so many boondollars, you have no idea.

EB: rose my piano!!!   
EB: :C   
TT: Sorry.   
TT: No nuance to these controls at all.   
TT: I was hoping to bludgeon the imp without letting go of it. Guess I can't really do that.   
TT: A broken piano isn't the end of the world though.   
EB: i guess you're right.   
TT: You'll need to pick up the spoils in person. I can't interact with the grist.   
EB: so...   
EB: that means i have to go out the back door?   
TT: Yes. Is there a problem?   
EB: well it may sound dumb, but i was hoping to avoid nanna and her spooky ghost cookies.   
TT: You're right, that does sound dumb.   
EB: can you see her in the kitchen?   
TT: Yeah.   
EB: what's she doing, is she baking?   
TT: You could say that.   
EB: are you SURE you can't get that grist up to me somehow?   
TT: Maybe. 

The pogo ride bounces as Rose selects it, but the grist on top of it doesn't move. So Rose just picks up the entire pogo ride and sets it down in your bathtub next to you. You pick up the 6 build grist and 10 shale.

TT: There you go.   
TT: Now why don't you check out the Designix?   
TT: You can do that while I get to work.   
EB: on what?   
TT: Nanna said to build, so that's what I'm doing.   
EB: oh yeah. ok.   
TT: But this sure is going to take a lot of grist.   
TT: Looks like you're going to be busy, John.   
EB: blargh!   
EB: well, what are you building?   
TT: Stairs.   
TT: They are fairly expensive actually.   
EB: oh man...   
EB: i could have warned you about stairs, rose!   
TT: I'll try recouping some of the grist from the catwalk I built earlier.   
EB: IT KEEPS HAPENING   
TT: Ah, good. Looks like I can get a refund for earlier allocations.   
EB: i told you rose   
EB: i TOLD you about stairs!   
TT: Ok.   
TT: Consider me fully briefed on the matter of stairs.   
TT: Now if you don't mind, it's hard enough to concentrate on this without immersing ourselves in Strider's non sequitur.   
EB: did you know he thinks puppets are cool?   
TT: Does he?   
EB: he's so dumb!! 

You check the bathroom cabinet under the sink for imps or useful items. No imps in here. Just a lot of shaving cream. Dads love shaving. It's basically all they do. (When they're not baking, that is.)

You captchalogue two cans of shaving cream just in case. You never know when you'll need to bust out a hilarious shaving cream santa beard to ratchet up your prankster's gambit. 

Your telescope goes flying out the window and lands in the hole where the pogo ride used to be.

Speaking of your pogo ride, you are tempted to ride it. But it's a little cramped in here for any sort of proper reckless pogoing. You'll just grab it and hang on to it until the right moment presents itself.

Captchalogueing the ride ejects the towel from your sylladex. It floats back down to hang neatly on the rack. 

The circle of stupidity is complete.

You leave the bathroom, heading for the study. In the hallway you are confronted with two imps. One is wearing your wizard hat and holding a harlequin head sculpture out like a weapon. The other is holding a fireplace poker. You glance down over the edge of the stairs, into the living room full of imps. It looks like the imps have taken a shining to the Cruxtruder. 

Cruxite and black goo. Everywhere.

This is completely outrageous! You are going to have to show these imps who's boss.

You mount your pogo and brandish your hammer and a can of shaving cream—truly deadly armaments. Now that the ride is no longer connected to the ground, you are able to bounce it on top of the imps. You defeat one at the top of the stairs, and another halfway down as you build momentum. This is incredibly dangerous! You flip the fuck out, wielding your double cans of shaving cream while riding the pogo ride. You think you're getting the hang of it! Let's see how they like the old doublebarrel latherblaster WHOOPS OH SHIT.


	16. Act II: Try Your Hand At Architecture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ A few minutes ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Image-heavy chapter, unconventional uses for everything except the kitchen sink, disturbing imagery, Rose rapping

###  Chapter 16: Act II: Try Your Hand At Architecture

You are still chuckling quietly to yourself after your latest conversation with John. You do find certain aspects of Strider's comics and demeanor amusing, though probably not the same aspects that John enjoys.

You turn your attention back to your construction. Building stairs from the balcony to the roof really did use a lot of grist, and the catwalk didn't give you much in return. You would like to be able to construct an elegant observation tower on the roof, but you obviously don't have enough grist yet for something that ambitious. But you can get started with something of a foundation for upward construction, at least. You build a flat floor on top of the roof, next to your stairs.

You check up on Nannaquin to see what's cooking. There are hundreds of chocolate chip cookies stacked on every available surface, and presumably more in the oven. There is also an imp hanging out by the potted plant in the corner. It reaches for a cookie. Nanna notices, turns, and fries it with a ray of light from her scarred eye.

It appears that sprites are able to protect themselves.

When you check back on John, you find that he has decided to ride his pogo down the stairs. You can only watch in disbelief as he lands on a cruxite dowel and goes flying into the wall, threatens his own pogo with shaving cream as a distraction, and then absconds into the study.

You are now free to drop the refrigerator on the closest imp. The refrigerator skyrockets up the echeladder to a new rung: Fivestar General Electric, and earns 285 boondollars. Things are really looking up for this feisty appliance.

You switch your view to John in the study. There is an imp wearing a top hat sitting at Dad's desk, and one with a pipe and a cane behind it. You send John a heads-up.

TT: I blocked the entrance to the study to give you some space to work with the Designix.   
TT: John, imps behind you.   
TT: Should I take care of it?   
TT: You trapped your PDA again, didn't you.   
TT: Why did you have to pick up all that stupid shaving cream?   
TT: So pointless. 

John appears to be spacing out again, Best clear out the room a bit for him.

You pick up the hefty safe in the corner, lift it outside above the roof, calculate the imp's precise location, and let go. The safe plummets through two ceilings and the intervening room. Upon landing, it crushes the imp and the door opens. The other imp moves to investigate the safe that defeated its fellow.

John is still completely unresponsive. What the hell is that nincompoop doing???

Whatever. You can take a minute to upload some screen captures to your walkthrough.

These captures bring to light different aspects of the game. The useless tier one sprite and attempts at tier two prototyping may serve as a warning. The uninterrupted power and internet despite the cut cables are interesting. Several speak to the importance of building upward. A few highlight the abilities and limits of the server player, such as not being able to see places the player has not been. And some just speak to the strangeness of the player riding a child's pogo ride and wielding shaving cream like a weapon.

With that task out of the way, you ponder again your ostensible responsibility. John has collected enough build grist for you to continue your construction. Using four chimneys, you build a loft above John's room. Then you copy the balcony railing to create a ladder from the roof of John's room up to the loft.

TT: Ladders seem to be a bit cheaper than stairs. 

Predictably, John does not reply. He is still standing around looking puzzled. The second imp is sneaking up on him, so you crush it with the collector's cabinet from the living room. Then you pick up the now-crushed top hat and bump it against John's head, seeking his attention. When that doesn't work, you bury your face in your velvet pillow in frustration. You only remove the pillow when you get an alert from Pesterchum.

TG: ok wait hold on why am i getting this stupid game for you   
TG: youre the one who should be wrist deep in puppet ass   
TT: What is the specific problem?   
TG: the problem is i am up to my goddamn neck in fucking puppet dong   
TT: You know you like the mannequin dick. Accept it.   
TG: i am enrobed in chafing, wriggling god fucking damned puppet pelvis   
TG: an obscenely long, coarse kermit cock is being dragged across my anguished face   
TT: Let's put this into perspective. You put up with the puppet prostate because you love it.   
TT: Also, coarse is a good word.   
TG: you dont seem to harbor any sympathy for the fact that ive burrowed fuck deep into lively, fluffy muppet buttock   
TG: im whirling in the terrible cyclone at the epicenter of my own personal holocaust of twitching foam noses   
TG: its like a fucking apocalypse of perky proboscis here   
TG: like   
TG: the proboscalypse i guess   
TT: Are you going to start rapping about this?   
TG: what no   
TG: no listen   
TT: Prong of flesh bereft of home   
TT: Found solace 'twixt a cleft of foam.   
TG: no oh jesus   
TT: Of apocalypse your thoughts eclipse   
TT: A painted pair of parted lips   
TT: That dare through kiss to stir the air   
TT: That teases tufts of orange hair.   
TT: And though faces flush in lovers' fits,   
TT: Hands snug in plush as gloves befit.   
TG: ok dickinson if you can shut your perfumey trap for a half second   
TG: this is serious   
TG: i am just saying   
TG: if i see one more soft bulbous bottom being like   
TG: kind of jutting out and impudent or whatever   
TG: im gonna fly off the handle   
TG: im gonna do some sort of acrobatic fucking PIROUETTE off the handle and win like a medal or some shit   
TT: Then let's hope there will be a squishy derriere somewhere below the handle to break your fall.

With your frustration alleviated, you close the chat window and check on John again. He's busy punching cards on the Designix, and doesn't notice the imp spying on him through the window. You pick up the bath tub and send John a message of warning.

TT: John, I'm about to throw a bath tub through your wall.   
TT: Watch out.

Yes, that should suffice.


	17. Act II: Punch Cards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something weird happened with the html when I was coding this (Dave might have tried to take over the chapter), so I might not have edited as carefully as I ought. If you spot something off, please do let me know!
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your house (study)
>   * _When:_ A few minutes ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Rampant bathtub related violence, stairs

###  Chapter 17: Act II: Punch Cards

You have absconded safely into the study after a clever fake-out and gravity-defying gymnastics.

(well done, john. polite congratulations.)

For some reason you feel a sense of positive reinforcement. Wherever that feeling is coming from, it sure is a welcome change from your erratic moods earlier.

(now my civil fellow, i have a well mannered query to ask)

Huh?

(john might i bother you for a can opener?)

Oblivious to the commotion behind you, suddenly you find yourself pondering the whereabouts of a can opener. 

You think there is probably one in the kitchen, but the path is blocked by your refrigerator.

(fellow john, it appears we have reached an impasse)

Yes, it seems so.

(the opener dilemma remains unsettled, most unfortunately)

It is unfortunate. 

You guess. 

What are you talking about again?

(but it has been a pleasure nonetheless.)

Thanks for the courtesy. 

It's not really necessary, but thanks anyway.

(oh, but thank you)

Ok.

(thank you so very very much, dear favorable small primate)

(i shall take my leave now john. until next time)

You suddenly stop worrying about can openers and polite exchanges, and take a look around.

Wait, where did all this sweet loot come from? 

And why is there suddenly a crumpled hat on your head?

The safe in the corner has been moved and opened. A large text has dropped out of it. The cabinet from the living room is between you and the Punch Designix. There are blue and purple grist gushers all over the room.

Feeling especially economical with your behavior suddenly, you scoop up all the grist in the room, and turn your attention to the Punch Designix all in one fell swoop. 

The device features a counter-top station design with a keyboard setup, not unlike an old fashioned computer. There is a blinking red light, and a diagram etched into a panel. Peering closely at the diagram, it looks like you are supposed to flip a captchalogue card over, type something into the keyboard, and put a card into the slot above the diagram.

You take the first card in your sylladex, which holds your pogo ride, and flip it over. The back looks like a prove-you-are-human code... what are those called again? There is a lot of colored static, some curvy lines, and eight nearly illegible letters and numbers. A code like this appears on the back of a card whenever you captchalogue anything, and you've always wondered what the code was for. 

Damn these things are hard to read. But then, you've never really found any reason to decipher them. 

Until now, perhaps?

You pull out the hammer card from your strife specibus. Looks like cards from your strife deck have codes too, though both the background and the code itself are different.

You glance at the pogo card again, and enter the code "DQMmJLeK" into the keyboard. At least you think that's what the code is. 

The red light switches off. A green light next to it begins blinking.

You insert the card with the pogo into the slot. A moment later, you retrieve it to find that it has been punched, much like the pre-punched card you used earlier to create the apple.

In the interest of due diligence, you enter the other code, nZ7Un6BI, and repeat the process with that card too. 

Both cards are now punched with different hole patterns.

You go to retrieve the pogo ride from the card, but it looks like it's trapped now. You don't see how you can access the item anymore, or store a new item there for that matter. These cards are pretty much useless now, and the items they contain are toast! 

But maybe all is not lost. Recalling your experience with the pre-punched card, you may be able to use the cards to replicate the items in question. 

Assuming you got the codes right, that is...

Not quite through with your cowboy empiricism just yet, you mash at the keyboard to generate a random code. 

You enter "dskjhsdk". The Designix stops you after eight characters, which appears to be the maximum length for a code. The green light goes on, signaling its readiness for a card.

You need a card to punch the code into. You figure you might as well burn the shaving cream since the product is not exactly at a premium in your household. You also figure you might as well merge the two cans onto one card. You're a little sad that your dad isn't around for this. You have a feeling he would get a real kick out of the idea of duplicating more shaving cream. 

You punch the card with a pattern that is in no way related to the code for the item it contains. This should make for an interesting experiment. Mad science is a lot of fun.

Unfortunately, you just burned another card in the process. Your deck is really dwindling now, down to three cards. Maybe you should have thought this through a little better. 

On the plus side, you just freed up your PDA, which is overflowing with the pent-up chatter of anxious pesterers.

Before you can check it, your bath tub comes flying through the wall, obliterating the window and the imp that was peeking through it. You are so startled you jump a foot into the air as it flies past you to crash through the wall to the kitchen.

TG: PUPPETS   
TG: AWESOME  
TG: THATS REALLY ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] changed his mood to RANCOROUS  \-- 

TT: John, I'm about to throw a bath tub through your wall.   
TT: Watch out.

Yeah, that warning was in no way helpful. 

EB: wow, that was so totally unnecessary!   
TT: I made a shortcut upstairs. I thought it would be a good idea to get up there and try the cards as soon as possible.   
TT: Also, you weren't being terribly responsive. 

You go to the new hole leading outside, and look at the really narrow “stairs” Rose built. They are not even as wide as you are. 

EB: you mean these stairs?   
EB: man, look at these shitty stairs...   
EB: they're so narrow! i'm supposed to climb those?   
TT: They're perfectly navigable.   
TT: I'm saving on grist for now.   
TT: If you keep slaying foes, collecting grist, and expanding the cache limit, we may not need to be so economical with our resources in the future.

You glance up through the hole in the ceiling above you, spying the first gate in the black sky above. 

EB: so why didn't you just build a way up through that hole into my dad's room?   
TT: Have you ever been in there?   
EB: no.   
TT: Exactly.   
EB: huh?   
TT: I'd rather not get sidetracked.   
TT: I'm more interested in further exploring the mechanics of the game than watching you discover what sort outlandish harlequin decor your father keeps in his room.   
EB: oh come on. what's the big deal, i'll just climb up and go right through!   
TT: Will you?   
EB: yeah, why not?   
TT: Are you saying you've never wondered what's in there? Or why it's been kept a secret from you?   
EB: well, i mean yeah...   
TT: Then trust me. You won't be going "right on through."   
EB: wait, are you saying there's something, like...   
EB: troubling in there?   
TT: I don't know.   
EB: what do you mean? what do you see in there?   
TT: I can't see in there.   
EB: oh.   
TT: But I don't have a very good feeling about it.   
EB: pfff...   
EB: whatever!   
EB: i think i can handle a few more stupid clown paintings.

You swoop up the bountiful supply of grist generated by your co-player's recent exploits. From now on it will probably go without saying that you'll nab any grist lying around without making a big fuss over it. 

You check out the busted safe, which has made a noble sacrifice in battle. Some of your father's odds and ends have spilled out, including some old newspaper clippings and two rather hefty tomes. It's a fair bet that these books comprised at least half the weight of the safe. 

One tome is another copy of _Colonel Sassacre's Daunting Text of Magical Frivolity and Practical Japery_. This one looks really old, the colors faded and the pages yellowing, perhaps an original printing. Could it be the same one involved with your grandmother's unfortunate accident on that fateful day? Dad would never speak a word about it, but maybe Nanna wouldn't be so tight-lipped? You give it a cursory perusal. It appears to be similar to your reprinting, listing all the japes and chicanery you have come to know and love. You captchalogue it, thinking you may give it a closer look later. 

You take a look at the other book. The white stenciled title on the gray cover reads _The Fatherly Gent's Shaving Almanac_. You're sure Dad thought this was a scintillating read, but it looks pretty boring to you. Maybe you'll crack into it some day when you're old enough to shave. 

Everything in this safe was obviously very important to your father. You wonder why he kept it locked away from you? 

Some things about him you will never understand. 

Next you study the clippings: “Space Rocks Knock Local Burb's Block Off,” “Crocker Facility Leveled,” “METEORS!!!” It seems he has been collecting scraps from the news over the years. These articles go back decades. 

Looking up, you notice a piece of paper taped to the wall, behind where the safe used to be. 

“SON. IF YOU ARE READING THIS, IT MEANS YOU ARE NOW STRONG ENOUGH TO LIFT THE SAFE. YOU ARE NOW A MAN. AS SUCH, YOU ARE ENTITLED TO WHAT IS INSIDE. I KNOW YOU WILL TAKE THIS RESPONSIBILITY SERIOUSLY. I AM SO PROUD OF YOU.”

You flip the card over to find “02-49-13” on the back. You guess this is the combination to the safe. 

This is completely useless. 

There was an empty captchalogue card on the floor. You take a glance at the back. You guess these are all zeros? Or are they capital O's? Zeros would probably make more sense for an empty card, you think. With a shrug, you captchalogue it, sending the totem in your sylladex shooting off into the night. 

You take the captchalogued captchalogue card over to the Designix and enter in the new code: 11111111. Then you punch the card, just as your PDA registers a message. 

TT: Wait, John, before you punch that.   
TT: Oh.   
TT: I was about to say.   
TT: If you first took note of the code, then removed the card from the card, you could have punched the blank one.   
TT: You would have only burned one card instead of two.   
EB: oh yeah, you're right.   
EB: dammit!

You now have two cards in your sylladex. You take the crumpled hat off your head and throw it out the former window in disgust. Then you captchalogue the punched captchalogued captchalogue card. Rose makes a sweet catch of your PDA that just went flying as a result and returns it to your feet. You can almost feel her disapproval. 

You put on your most innocent look, as if to say, “what?” 

You take the PDA back, and send the tattered copy of _Sassacre's_ flying out the third wall. Happily, it lands on an imp outside. 

The two card sylladex: inventory of dumbasses. 

This was enough to level you up to “pesky urchin,” the seventh rung on your echeladder, netting you 450 boondollars. 

_Colonel Sassacre_ levels up too, reaching the rung, “one man julep vacuum,” and pockets 9550 boondollars. Chump change for the genteel, aristocratic southern colonel. 

The bathtub surges heroically and surpasses the rung, “Archimedes' aquacradle,” proceeding directly to vaunted rung, “taft-jammer.” The tub makes off with a cool 490 boondollars. The tub's basin capacity remains unaffected. 

The safe was slain in battle. A great flaming nautical pyre carries it off to Vaulthalla. 

Alright, enough dillydallying. Time to make your way up those stairs posthaste! 

Although... you're not sure. They look pretty precarious to you. But you've been assured the stairs are perfectly navigable. 

You close your eyes and make a lad scramble up the stairs, slipping off halfway up and wrapping your body around them to cling for your life. 

Dangling awkwardly with your eyes closed, you do not see the pair of humungous black hands that clasp onto the edge of the lawn behind you. 

Lousy goddamn stupid stairs! 


	18. Act II: Ignore Lil Cal and Find the Beta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Your apartment (living room)
>   * _When:_ Some minutes ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Gratuitous muppet death, unsafe kitchen practices, spelling math

###  Chapter 18: Act II: Ignore Lil Cal and Find the Beta

Having regained your cool and finished your chat with Rose, you move away from your bro's computer. You wander over to the place where Bro keeps his sweet turntable gear. Man that setup is sweet. You feel pangs of jealousy whenever you walk by it. Really cool jealousy, though. Like the kind where instead of getting all worked up about it, you don't actually give a shit. 

One of your brother's rad and extremely expensive ninja swords is missing from the wall though. 

You know this drill all too well. Trouble's a brewin'.

You contemplate taking the other expensive ninja sword...

Something flickers at the corner of your vision.

...What sword?

You approach the exit next to the turntable. 

There's something on the door you haven't seen before. Looks like one of your bro's ironic comics he left for you to check out.

The first frame shows the long-eared muppet, Rowlf, looking sad: “What have I done?” The next is a shot of a pink puppet wearing a white bonnet, lying on the floor. “Animal? Please start breathing. Oh God, please breathe.”

View from the front of Animal, looking back at Rowlf. “Haha, ok, make-believe time is over!”

Background of “OHGODOHGOD” on red. Rowlf puts his hands on his cheeks. Clutching his head, he says, “What will Nanny do to me if she finds out? No one can ever know.

“I have to hide the body. But where? Think, imagination! Argh, the one time I really need you!!”

_Click._

Light shines down on Rowlf, who squints. “Hello Rowlf.” Rowlf looks over his shoulder. “I want to play a game.”

And then, from the darkness emerges a white head with red swirls for eyes, wearing a red bowtie. “I WANT TO PLAY A GAME.” Zoom in on one red swirly eye.

You take the comic off the door and rip it in half.

Ok, some of this stuff you _know_ he's just leaving around to get under your skin. This is obviously another ploy in his relentless siege of one-upsmanship to get your goat (the same goat you've been meaning to bleat like ironically, but that will still have to wait for a more appropriate time). 

You think he knows that deep down you feel like you're still not ironic enough to get stuff like this, and this is probably some weird gauntlet he's throwing down to see if you will "get it". 

But honestly you think this material is just a little _too_ ironic. You just don't need to see this shit right now.

You go into the kitchen, which is on the other side of the door. Not through the door, just in another area of the room. No sign of Bro in here either. 

Well, aside from the absurd quantity of awesome dangerous stuff he leaves lying around. Like the blades behind the microwave or the fireworks in the sink. A paring knife is the most innocuous sharp implement lying out on the counter amidst the nunchaku and shuriken. A purple plush smuppet is sitting on a skateboard on top of the stove.

With an escalating sense of threat, you think it's time you shift (9) your katana (9) to your specibus. 

You figure it's better to free up the card anyway, since you might need to grab some of this stuff.

There is a little green puppet in the blender. You press the “mix” button, and watch red liquid gush out of the disintegrating green fluff. You guess Bro stuck some fake blood capsules in that puppet? Pretty gross.

The tiny Jigsaw puppet riding a trike on top of the microwave turns its head toward the blender. One eye spins open to reveal one of your bro's many webcams nearby, recording the incident. 

It seems you may have just been an unwitting accessory to some sort of grisly puppet snuff film. You're not totally sure how you feel about that.

Well, can't leave any witnesses. You decapitate the puppet with one swing of your katana. The puppet's head lands in the blender.

You take the buster sword from behind the microwave. This might be the only thing in the whole apartment that's a bigger piece of shit than your own sword. You put it back behind the microwave where it belongs.

You set the blender to “crush ice.” The head is just sort of bouncing around in there. You're making a bit of a mess now.

You reach for the microwave door, hoping you can hide the evidence in there.

Or not. The smuppets crammed in there don't leave any room. See, like, his hobbies are cool and all, and you guess he's got to put his shit _somewhere_. But what if you just wanted to heat up a burrito or something? 

This kitchen is pretty much useless.

You captchalogue all the fireworks (2+1+2+1+2+1+2+2+2 = 15%10 = 5) the sink has to offer. 

You just know these are going to come in handy. Why would they be in the sink if they weren't? 

Looks like one of them is still stuck in the garbage disposal.

You grab the shurikens (5) off the counter and... 

Hey! Careful where you're putting stuff, especially if you're looking to turn your sylladex into a powder-keg full of sharp things. Luckily your reflexes let you snag the box of fireworks out of the air.

You put the box of fireworks (3) back into card 5 and prepare to start ov... 

Or card 3, apparently. That settles that, you guess.

Next you take the nunchaku (3), once again grabbing without thinking ahead. The fireworks hit the fridge behind you and spill onto the floor.

First you captchalogue the box(5) again, while adeptly avoiding the shuriken trap, which you yourself set only moments ago. They strike the fridge, one of them pinning the Hella Jeff photo held there by a GameBro magnet. You again round up all the fireworks. Time to regroup here.

You grab each shuriken (3) one at a time, knocking out those nunchaku. The magnet is knocked onto the microwave.

But no worries. You've got a plan.

You take the nunchucks (6). Everything seems to be in order now. 

It would have been badass to go with the authentic Japanese names for each weapon, but sometimes you've just got to compromise with this modus.

You flip over your yellow fetch modus card and check out the back. 

You're not really sure where it is you're keeping this thing. Oh well, who cares.

At the top of the card is an “Eject” button. Oh hell no. Not after all that trouble you went through to get that stuff situated. This is potentially a very dangerous button.

Below the button is a text box with several hash functions assigning point values according to different rules. You can add functions, too. You program your modus with a scrabble points hash function, adding it to the list. This might be a cool function to use, but it looks like you'll have to empty your sylladex to select it. You're just not gonna do that yet. No way.

At the bottom of the card is a little checkbox that says “detect collisions”.

You check the heck out of that box.

Having gathered up all the sharp objects worth bothering with, you look at the smuppet on the skateboard. 

And just what is this guy so happy about? What's he looking at up at the ceiling? You think if you see one more soft, bulbous bottom being like kind of jutting out and impudent or whatever you're gonna fly off the handle.

Out comes your katana again. Your swing both shortens his nose by half and sends the puppet into the sink, leaving only the end of the nose on the stove. Now that's more like it.

You take the skateboard (6). 

Actually, no you don't. A collision has been detected. You take the... uh… wheeled... uh… ride (7). 

Man, your inventory's nomenclature is getting lamer by the minute.

Near the sink is a pile of electronic equipment. On top is an unplugged power cord that might come in handy. You take the power cord (5)... wait, no. Not going to work.

Ok, what's another word for power cord?

You take the battery pack(8). Dammit. That's your phone.

You take the battery pack (9), using the 'Y' as a consonant. Your sylladex reluctantly accepts. 

It's a tactic notoriously employed by hashmap noobs, but you just don't care about that now. Besides, it's not like your bro is around to see.

You turn and jump back in alarm.

Oh, it was just Lil' Cal again, sitting on the stove. You can never stay mad at him. 

Anyway, you've got to get this way rude hunger under control. You figure you oughta scope the fridge for some grub. This hunger is so ill-mannered it would make a room full of snooty dowagers commit mass suicide.

You open the refrigerator and dodge. Oh god more shitty swords. Of course you knew these were in there. You're not even sure why you looked. 

If you want to keep any food or beverages in this apartment, you've pretty much got no choice but to hide stuff away in your closet.

The hell with it. You try to take the entire jumble of unbelievably shitty swords (2) and brace yourself for... 

Looks like that works, actually. 

You decide to use the ice maker, 'cause it's still hot around here. You dispense several cherry bombs.

Wait... 

Who's that looking at you in the reflection on the refrigerator? A grinning puppet face?

You turn and scan behind you, but don't see him. Where'd the little dude scamper off to this time?

You forget to look up.

You go for the cherry bombs(9) unsuccessfully. After mulling it over a bit, you take the red spherical salutes (1).

You've got one empty card left. Blender (2) is a pretty simple word, and you can already tell that's not going to work. Instead you take the… whirling blade pitcher (4). That's really a much better name for it anyway, you think.

Might as well clean up your mess. You activate the garbage disposal and watch it eat the firework. Then you stuff mr. purple guy in, too. You're still not sure what he's so happy about, or what he's looking at up there. While you're at it, you dump the contents of the blender, oops you mean whirling blade pitcher, into the disposal. But you suffer an unfortunate garbage disposal head jam. 

You notice something in the reflection. Something above you. Something shaped like a puzzle piece with words on it.

You look up.

It's the hatch to the crawlspace above your apartment. Bro's always tucking away in there when he's busting out his rad stealth stunts. He's so slick that dangling cord never even jostles. Scrawled on the hatch in red is the outline of a puzzle piece and the words “HELLO DAVE”.

You just know he's being ironic with these weird mind games. There's no way anyone could be serious about aping those shitty movies.

You use the turntables and cinderblocks from the pile next to the sink to build a fort. It's a pretty sweet fort you just made and you're pretty sure your brother would agree. Under different circumstances, you might be high-fiving over it right now. 

But rather than get inside and take her for a spin, you really just need to use it to get up to that hatch. 

It is time to face your destiny. No going back now. You yank on the cord.

Out come blue and purple and pink and green and yellow and red plush rumps. You cringe as the pile knocks you off your fort and buries you in a pile of jutting proboscises and plush rump.

Yeah, there was pretty much no way there wasn't going to be a bunch of puppets in there.

TG: ok wait hold on why am i getting this stupid game for you   
TG: youre the one who should be wrist deep in puppet ass   
TT: What is the specific problem?   
TG: the problem is i am up to my goddamn neck in fucking puppet dong   
TT: You know you like the mannequin dick. Accept it.   
TG: i am enrobed in chafing, wriggling god fucking damned puppet pelvis   
TG: an obscenely long, coarse kermit cock is being dragged across my anguished face   
TT: Let's put this into perspective. You put up with the puppet prostate because you love it.   
TT: Also, coarse is a good word.   
TG: you dont seem to harbor any sympathy for the fact that ive burrowed fuck deep into lively, fluffy muppet buttock   
TG: im whirling in the terrible cyclone at the epicenter of my own personal holocaust of twitching foam noses   
TG: its like a fucking apocalypse of perky proboscis here   
TG: like   
TG: the proboscalypse i guess   
TT: Are you going to start rapping about this?   
TG: what no   
TG: no listen   
TT: Prong of flesh bereft of home   
TT: Found solace 'twixt a cleft of foam.   
TG: no oh jesus   
TT: Of apocalypse your thoughts eclipse   
TT: A painted pair of parted lips   
TT: That dare through kiss to stir the air   
TT: That teases tufts of orange hair.   
TT: And though faces flush in lovers' fits,   
TT: Hands snug in plush as gloves befit.   
TG: ok dickinson if you can shut your perfumey trap for a half second   
TG: this is serious   
TG: i am just saying   
TG: if i see one more soft bulbous bottom being like   
TG: kind of jutting out and impudent or whatever   
TG: im gonna fly off the handle   
TG: im gonna do some sort of acrobatic fucking PIROUETTE off the handle and win like a medal or some shit   
TT: Then let's hope there will be a squishy derriere somewhere below the handle to break your fall.

Nailed to the inside of the hatch with a batarang is another note. “bro. roof. now. bring cal.” is written in black. Following it in red is more text: “where doing it man. where MAKING THIS HAPEN.”

You burst out of the puppet pile like “the one”. Severed puppets go flying. 

Now would be a great time to “be the other guy,” dontcha think?


	19. Act II: Get an Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Punchcard alchemy

###  Chapter 19: Act II: Get an Idea

You are now the other guy. You have successfully navigated the stairs and reached your room. All the cards you punched and the dowels from the living room are waiting for you next to the Alchemiter, thanks to Rose.

You get a great idea. You pull your dresser to the middle of your room. Then you take the dowels Rose moved for you, piling two of them on top of the dresser and placing four others at a good distance around it. Then you toss your bedsheet over the top and pin the corners down with four more dowels to make a tent.

This is so much fun. A huge waste of time, yes. _But so much fun_.

...Until Rose picks up your dresser and sheets and flings them out the window, anyway.

You take the hint and get to work, putting punched cards into the slot on the Alchemiter and carving totems out of the cruxite dowels. You lay the cards on top of the completed dowels, so you can remember which one was which. You make a totem for a captchalogue card, which is just a skinnier dowel.

Pretty bare bones looking totem, if you ask you.

Your totems vanish as Rose picks them up. A few moments later, she sets a stack of empty cards next to you. You pull out your PDA so you can pester Rose.

EB: whoa, did you just make all these??    
TT: Yes.    
EB: sweet, thanks!    
EB: what did you do with all the blue wobbly vase-looking things?    
TT: I brought the totems out to the alchemiter to test them.    
TT: I'm taking some things into my own hands to save some time.    
EB: ok.

Using a little strategy, first you grab _Harry Anderson's Wise Guy_ , by Mike Caveney, then the cards, then your ejected PDA, then the book again to flush the cards into your deck. 

Nice going!

The thought enters your head to turn on “detect collisions.” You flip your fetch modi but find no option for detecting collisions. This is idiotic.

You take a few minutes to read the book and be the wise guy. The cover shows a Harry Anderson in glasses and a hat playing poker and looking at the reader with a smirk. The first page is titled “An Introduction: Who's This Wise Guy?” and “Blood Loss in the Big Easy.” Caveney describes his first meeting with Anderson in New Orleans in 1977, and the little guillotine trick he hadn't perfected yet.

You never really understood what Caveney's relation to Anderson was, or why he wrote this book about him. His ambivalent attitude toward your favorite magician in these anecdotes always struck you as a little weird, and to be honest, you tend not to read much of the text in the book. You mostly like to look at the diagrams for all the cool tricks.

You turn the page. Oh yeah, that's right. The old “hole in the ace trick,” interestingly enough, pertaining to punching holes in cards and making them "disappear" and stuff. Your hands were never really strong enough to make this one work all that well either. 

But actually... this gives you an idea. You overlap two of the punched cards. They mask each other's hole patterns. You put both cards together into the Totem Lathe, and carve a new totem. Time to take this to the Alchemiter. You leave your room and head for the balcony.

Oh man, looks like Rose made like a million hammers for some reason. 

Get all this shit out of the way, you're about to make something sweet!

You place the new totem on the little pedestal, and eagerly await the result.

You got the pogo hammer!

It's a big hammer with a bright green handle. Both heads of the hammer are on springs, and Slimer sits atop the block between them.

You'd better practice with your new hammer. You swing it back and forth, hitting the ground and enjoying the _boing_ sounds. The nearest imp, sitting on the pogo, just stares at you, slightly concerned.


	20. Act II: Lose Power Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your house (mausoleum)
>   * _When:_ Several minutes ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Cliffhanger

###  Chapter 20: Act II: Lose Power Again

After chucking John's tent out the window in an effort to hurry him along, you realize you'll have to take matters into your own hands. As John carves totems from the punched cards, you stow them in the Atheneum. Then you make captchalogue cards. The Alchemiter requires one unit of any type of grist to produce one card. You decide to use shale, since it seems less generally useful than build grist as of now. 

You make a whole bunch of them. Then you bring them to John. He seems pleased.

Next you create a hammer at the expense of 2 units of build grist. You make a pogo ride too. Minus 5 build, 1 shale. The imps seem curious, climbing onto the Alchemiter platform. One picks up the hammer, and one bounces off on the pogo.

You use the totem carved with the random code. You create a... 

A rocket pack? With some random crap stuck inside it. Looks like a cinderblock, a violin, and a flower pot. The items have rendered the device completely inoperable. You figure you might as well put this piece of junk to use, and drop it on the imp with the hammer.

John suddenly comes hurrying out to the balcony, and sweeps away the hammers that have been accumulating on the Alchemiter. He places a totem on the pedestal and creates a new weapon that he seems quite enamored with. 

TT: What did you do?    
EB: i combined the cards in the lathe thingy and made this!    
EB: it is so sweet, man look at me go.    
TT: I see.    
TT: That was a really good idea, John. Nice work.    
EB: thanks!    
EB: i got the idea from harry anderson.    
TT: Who?    
EB: uh, you know the show night court?    
TT: No.    
EB: oh.    
EB: well bottom line is...    
EB: he's awesome    
EB: that's really all there is to say on the matter!

He gets a rhythm going bouncing his hammer, and slays the nearest imp with it in one blow. Both he and the pogo ride go flying. You hardly care where the stupid pogo lands, but John is another matter, and his trajectory predicts a hard landing on the roof. You hastily grab his bed and move it into his path. You don't dare to cease your observation for even a second. This means you can't look at the base of the house, where there are implications of a looming threat.

Your timing is impeccable. He lands squarely in the center of his bed.

EB: hey, that was a pretty, uh...    
EB: nice...    
EB: uh... 

You briefly ponder how hard he struck the bed. He appears to be even less eloquent than usual.

TT: Sweet catch?    
EB: ... save.    
EB: oh, yeah.    
EB: that.    
EB: this is pretty comfy.    
EB: why don't you just like,    
EB: carry the bed around with me on it?    
EB: up to the gate up there!    
TT: I can't interact with you directly, or anything that you are touching, if it will result in moving you. 

You attempt to select the bed, which turns red and abjures the cursor.

TT: See?    
EB: oh.    
EB: lame!    
TT: The game probably regards that as a kind of cheating.    
TT: In a way, thieving you of your free will as an adventurer, and the need to advance by your own skill and ingenuity.    
TT: The server player is just a facilitator.    
EB: well, ok.    
EB: all that scurrying around kind of wore me out, i think i'm going to rest here for a bit.    
EB: rose, can you keep the imps at bay? like, drop some stuff on them if they sneak too close. 

Does he really expect you to do all the work for him, while he takes a nap? You are hardly going to enable that kind of laziness.

TT: No, you should pick up your hammer and defend yourself.    
EB: what, come on!    
TT: I have no idea what the hell Dave is up to, or if he's any closer to recovering the game.    
TT: There's some stuff I'd like to try, in case he doesn't come through.    
EB: oh alright.    
EB: i'm just gonna rest my eyes here a second though.

You decide that is acceptable, since it means you won't have to worry about missing John doing something incredibly ill-advised. You check the Alchemy Excursus, which has previously been empty. There is now one entry, showing a picture of the pogo ride and the hammer, combined using “&&” and resulting in the pogo hammer.

Looks like the Excursus is a sort of index documenting all the known results for punch card alchemy combinations. This could be a convenient resource as you start to stumble on more useful card combinations. But now that John has started punching cards, you've begun contemplating other ways this item manufacturing system could be put to use. In particular, if you obtain the code for any item at your disposal, you think you could theoretically send the code to John and he could make it himself. 

That is, if you can think of anything that would be worth sending to him.

You eject the Sburb disk from your computer and captchalogue the server CD. If you could message John the code...

You flip the card over, but the code is lacking. You slap your forehead. Oh God damn it.

A moment later, the generator outside sputters to a halt. Your laptop loses power, cutting you off from the game and your friends. This calls for a facepalm x2 combo.

Your only choice is to head outside, amidst the burning forest and the falling meteors, and attempt to restart the generator.


	21. Act II: Prepare for Boss Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your house (roof)
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Cliffhanger, abuse of punctuation

###  Chapter 21: Act II: Prepare for a Boss Battle

You stare up at the gate spinning in the night, lulled into taking a quick nap.

You dream of a blue sky, and clouds drifting toward you. They take the shapes of your dad, a birthday cake, a box of gushers, Slimer, and other things, ending with a silhouette of a girl. You have a brief impression of a pumpkin before you awake with a jolt. As you sit up, you realize someone is pestering you.

GG: hey!!!!   
EB: whoa, there you are!   
GG: how is your adventure going john?   
EB: it's ok, i am making some progress, and rose finally connected again so she is helping me now.   
GG: thats good!!   
EB: oh but, like...   
EB: i don't think i am actually saving the world here. :(   
EB: i dunno what i'm really accomplishing but i guess it's not that.   
GG: hmm well i think whatever it is it must be pretty important!   
GG: dont lose hope john i think it will all turn out for the best if you stay positive....   
GG: just keep listening to your grandmothers advice!!!   
EB: yeah, you're probably right.   
EB: but, um...   
EB: i don't think i mentioned nanna to you, did i?   
GG: oh uhhh.......   
GG: i dont know didnt you???   
EB: hmm, i dunno, maybe you talked to rose or dave about it or something.   
GG: yeah maybe that was it!!   
EB: they're really weird when they talk to me about you, like they're always trying convince me you have some spooky powers, but i'm always like no she seems like a pretty regular girl to me!   
GG: heheheh :D   
EB: but then when i think back maybe there are times when it seems like you know some things?   
EB: like maybe you know more about a thing than you are telling me? i dunno.   
GG: oh well john   
GG: i want to explain lots of things to you....   
GG: some things that i know   
GG: im just......   
GG: waiting!   
EB: waiting for what!   
GG: oh! john!!!   
GG: i forgot i was messaging you about that meteor that fell near my house!   
EB: oh yeah.   
EB: what ever happened with that?   
GG: oh boy.... well........   
GG: it turns out i was confused about it...   
GG: really confused! o_o;   
GG: see i guess i fell asleep for a while and.....   
GG: lost track of time   
GG: that happens!!   
EB: yeah i know, tell me about it!   
EB: maybe you should like, wear an alarm clock or something.   
EB: so what was the deal with the meteor?   
GG: well.....   
GG: its hard to explain!!!   
GG: but...   
GG: i know what it is now!   
GG: and now i know everythings going to be ok!!!   
EB: so what is it???   
EB: or is this just another thing you're "waiting" to tell me???   
GG: oh gosh john i really want to tell you all this stuff!!!   
GG: but i cant yet   
GG: i really think you need to wake up first!   
EB: huh?   
GG: well ok not literally   
GG: well ok maybe KINDA literally!!   
EB: AUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!   
EB: stop being so confusing!!!!   
GG: lol :)   
GG: anyway time for you to go john   
GG: i think you have some company!!!   
GG: <3 

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at ??:?? –-

Company? That's can't be good. You quickly stick the pogo hammer back in your strife specibus and get ready to kill some more of these pesky little... 

Huh? What's that?

Over the edge of the roof you can just see part of your pogo ride stuck in the tree, and the edge of something yellow. That something rises, revealing itself to be a bell the size of a basketball on the end of something floppy and purple. A giant black hand appears, banging down the old copy of Sassacre's on the roof. The hand is as huge as the massive tome of japery.

You scramble behind the dubious cover of your bed, where an imp is already cowering, and pull out your PDA. 

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at ??:?? —   
EB: rose, why aren't you dropping something on that thing??   
EB: oh no   
EB: D:

The imp absconds the fuck outta there, leaving you on your own. This is what weaker adversaries do whenever things get too hot to handle, which is frequently.

You had better prepare for what will obviously be a boss battle. You scurry over to your magic chest that you suddenly remembered was on the roof. There are some things in here that would be good to stock up on for a major battle. 

But it looks like someone has plundered your chest!!! This is so outrageous.

You don't have long to scowl about it before a massive hand slams down next to you, having used the tree and your window to climb up here. You are being ambushed! There isn't much room to maneuver on this sloping roof. Maybe you should consider making your way to higher ground.

You hurry up the ladder to the highest point in the house, and swing your pogo hammer at the lone imp just hanging out. You have no time for him!

You peek over the edge to your left, where you saw the thing climbing before. It already seems like a long way down to your yard. Not even to speak of whatever's below. 

Hey, weren't your trick handcuffs dangling from that branch earlier? Dammit, why do imps got to be making off with all your sweet gear?? There's no big monster there, though.

With a sense of foreboding, you turn around slowly. You are confronted with a pair of enormous foes. The crude ogres are like five times your height and weight. In addition to the usual pointy teeth of monsters here, they also have curving tusks coming out of their bottom jaws. One holds the old copy of Sassacre's that went flying earlier, and the other holds your tire swing.

This is it. You have no choice but to wage a fierce rooftop battle. This is totally going to happen now, and could in no way conceivably be interrupted by a sudden shift in our attention. It's go time. It's time to do this thing. 

where doing it man. where MAKING THIS HAPEN.


	22. Act II: Head for the Roof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Your apartment (living room)
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Really short, cliffhanger 3

###  Chapter 22: Act II: Head for the Roof

You stop being the other guy. You're not even sure what that meant anyway. You're holding your bro's note in your hand.

Alright, time to make this hapen. You crumple the note, captchalogue the pile of puppets, and do an acrobatic fucking pirouette to reach the top of the refrigerator to fetch Cal. Then you draw your sword and make for the apartment building stairs, climbing without hesitation. You burst onto the roof, unconcerned with the meteors falling around your building as you set Cal on the edge. You need to find your bro.

You turn to follow movement at the corner of your vision. When you turn back, Cal has disappeared and you appear to be alone on the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the flash of this scene, which is somehow considerably longer, click [here](http://mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=002565)


	23. Act II: Become Mayor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a longer chapter, with a character you will find yourself loving without knowing why!
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ WV
>   * _Where:_ Command station on a ruined world
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Adorable overload, low self esteem, eating things that still should not be eaten, poor time management

###  Chapter 23: Act II: Become Mayor

You are now a girl standing in a greenhouse.

Actually, no you are not. You are now the wayward vagabond, still in the strange command center you found. You have eaten half the pages of the book on human etiquette. Your cans remain unopened on the floor in front of the purple cabinet that opened earlier. There is a rotted pumpkin you hadn't noticed before in the corner next to the cabinet. It quickly disappears, leaving only a few stains on the wrappings around your mouth.

You look at the red bar on the box to your left. It appears to be a gauge for a large power cell, perhaps fueled by some type of nuclear reaction. If this is the case, it is relatively low on fuel. But who knows how long it has been running here? 

You do not care about this sort of nonsense and you will disregard it at once. You are very hungry.

You could captchalogue the can of gravy. Wait, captchalogue? You have no idea what that means. It is total nonsense and you do not know what to make of it. You will not give the foolish notion a second thought.

You just pick up the can. You are now holding the can of gravy. You try to bite a hole in the lid of the can, but your teeth are useless for the task! They are blunt like that of livestock, presumably suitable for mashing up plant matter, and not for puncturing metal. 

You try to use your hands instead. Your weak pathetic digits are not strong enough to penetrate the can!!! Your fingers are certainly pointy enough, and your black carapace is suitably rigid, but you just don't have enough muscle for the task. The only effect your efforts have is a small _dook_ sound.

You take the can labeled “BEANS” too.

You examine the can of custard... except the can clearly reads "MUSTARD", a fact of which you were perfectly well aware. 

It is sort of cumbersome holding all these cans at once. You doubt you can hold many more than this. Maybe one or two. You'll need to find something to put stuff in if you want to carry a lot of things around.

You suddenly drop all the cans and take a look at your wrist. It is a sort of specialized bar code pattern, made up of nine bar codes in a square. This brings back unpleasant memories and you would prefer not to dwell on it.

You should look at the small potted plant in front of the open cabinet.

_Burp._ What plant? There is only a terra cotta pot there.

You pick up the book on human etiquette. The daunting volume is considerably lighter than it once was. You are somewhat skeptical about the nutritional value contained by these pages. However, of the practical wisdom they contain there can be little doubt. The next page shows the key importance of silverware in consumption. You have learned so much. 

You empty the peculiar purple cabinet and take a quick inventory of your canned goods. 

You have beans, mustard, gravy, bread, shrimp, asparagus, cheese, rice, corn, peas, flour, chestnuts, mayo, ham, potatoes, and squash. Such bountiful plenty. And yet the delights taunt you from within their small metal prisons. You have already looked all over the place for a can opener, even making a few electronic inquiries about one, to no avail. 

Nothing else inside the purple thing either.

Perhaps any sharp object will do. You wield your trusty knife. 

It is actually a... 

You're not sure what they're called. It's an old rusted one of those red mailbox arm-swing flappy doodads, either for letting you know there is mail in the box, or maybe for alerting the mailman to outgoing mail to be collected. You don't know, really. You've wrapped a little piece of cloth around it for the grip. It is useless for opening cans.

You think you should be the imp. No wait, this means nothing to you. You are not an imp, you have no idea what an imp is, and you will not entertain such frivolous and childish ideas ever again. You feel stupid and hate yourself a little for even considering it.

Instead you decide to become the mayor of Can Town. As the glorious founder and mayor of Can Town, you erect a dignified, majestic city hall out of cans, fittingly capped off with a tome of good manners for the roof. You stick your trusty knife into the pot and place it on the roof. You have given yourself a very official and important looking mayoral sash made out of old cables to complete your look of authority. A number of rather civic-minded citizen cans gather in front of the building to offer adulation to their fair and magnanimous leader. All is well.

You immerse yourself in this beautiful dream as you whittle away the minutes, or perhaps hours. In your mind there is sunshine and parades and cars made out of cans.

You love the idea of being a mayor. You love everything about mayors, and the concept of an orderly, civil democracy. It all seems so mannerly and reasonable to you. Everyone is friendly and happy, and the city runs like clockwork. The foundation of the government is based on mutual respect between the leader and its people. It is also built on having a really great mayor that everyone loves who is totally amazing and heroic and brave.

Mayors are so much better than kings. You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way. 

God do you hate kings.

West of Can Town is the other side of the room. There is another one of those purple storage boxes, and some useless objects scattered on the floor: a yellow container with a picture of a gear on it, a 12-pack of crayons, a firefly encased in amber, and a glowing green rock.

You pick up the nugget of uranium and... eating it might have made you radioactive.

Oh that was so stupid. Why would you do that? 

You pick up the box of crayons. It's chalk numbnuts.

Inside the box, there are 12 pieces of chalk in every color of the… _chomp, chomp_ ...10 pieces of chalk. In most colors of the rainbow. You are excited by this.

You try to open the storage box. It's locked! There must be some sort of release mechanism for this thing. You look back at the items on the floor. The container is full of motor oil. This does not seem useful to you right now. 

You pick up the poor lightning bug instead. There is nothing you can do for this new little friend. Attempting to crush the amber encasing the firefly would likely cause it harm. 

It nevertheless bravely flashes on. You find its light alluring. Inspiring. To you it seems as if it could quite easily serve as the light of...

Hold that thought while you carry it over to Can Town and place it inside the city hall to serve as the light of... Democracy.

You sketch a handsome network of sprawling thoroughfares for your citizens to traverse, helpfully labeled things like “Can Pkwy”. While you are drawing, you stack some of the cans to make buildings. The adoring population applauds its mayor's keen instincts for city planning. 

You even add some lush vegetation to your city with a piece of blue chalk, because you can't seem to find a more suitable color for some reason.

You develop westward, settling those fertile plains and claiming them for your city. You section off a number of residential and commercial zones for civic growth, arranged in the only logical pattern that occurs to you, that of an 8 by 8 grid. You color the residential zones with your piece of white chalk, but for some reason none of the colors in the box strike you as suitable for the commercial zones. Perhaps there is an alternative.

You have the idea to use your own pee. However, you cannot urinate because you have not had anything to drink in quite some time. You are very thirsty. 

Also that is a really terrible idea and you would not consider befouling your wonderful city in that way for even a moment.

You fill each empty square with a bit of motor oil to complete the zoning. It looks rather striking to you. You can hardly imagine that an up and coming young can trying to make it in the world would not be delighted to live in your fair district. 

You are very careful not to get any of the unpleasant fluid on your person.

Speaking of your person, your mayoral outfit is lacking something. You carefully peel the label from the can of mayo, add an “R” with red chalk, and affix it to your sash.

You survey your surroundings in search of more terrain for your city. Can Drive is right up against the four-paneled screen on the opposite wall. Your zoning grid is against the empty side wall. It seems you have run out of territory for your western expansion. But there is still a lot of empty wall space. Perhaps your citizens would be happier with a colorful backdrop that would make them feel more at home.

Using most of your imagination and an entire piece of sky-blue chalk, you render a bright and cheerful sky full of clouds, even covering the locked cabinet. 

You have decided that very closely orbiting your city is a luminous yellow planet, about which orbits a single moon. 

You switch to another shade of blue and continue rendering on the western wall. Orbiting much further from your city are four planets. The one on the right is rendered in dripping oil. Next to it is shining planet in light blue and purple. The third looks like a ball of lava surrounded by a gear. And the last clearly has an erupting volcano. None of these have satellites, you have decided. Yes, that makes sense, you think.

And on the southern wall, beyond an impenetrable veil of darkness, occupying the furthest orbit yet, there is an ominous purple planet. A moon circles this one too.

Since you are right next to it, you check that rampaging boy on the screen. As you watch, his wild swings of his hammer send him and his green steed flying. Oh yeah, it's that guy. You had almost forgotten about him and his confusing shenanigans. 

It seems like he has things well in hand at the moment. He does not appear to need your help, and you have already concluded that he cannot help you, at least for the time being.

You would like to see what the other three screens have to show you. You study the screens and the keyboard for a moment. You have no idea how to turn these on! There is no mouse for this weird quadra-monitored computer. It can only be operated through text commands from its keyboard. 

Perhaps there is a special key or command which will allow you to switch to another monitor?

You try pressing “TAB.”

The locked cabinet pops open, revealing numerous cans of Tab. Four of the soda cans fall to the floor.

For a moment you are so overcome with joy that you cannot even move. At last, cans you can open! Cans you can drink! You grab one for each hand, and can hardly decide which one to consume first. You free the heavenly brown elixir from the jewels of pink carapace and imbibe like the wind. It is so sweet and sugary. You wonder how so much sugar can fit in one can. Whatever mighty wizard concocted this potion is truly deserving of your fear and respect.

The Tabs are naturalized as loyal new citizens of Can Town. Some are stacked atop the can buildings, while others gather on the ground. All cans are welcome and equal in your city, regardless of can content, and whether empty or full. It's not like emptying a can kills it or anything. They are just cans after all.

Feeling refreshed and heavily caffeinated, you go back to work on the big computer. You hit ESCAPE, which seems to minimize the action window thingy and reveals a history of all the commands you've entered in white text on the black screen.

You use the arrow key to scroll up a bit from “i shall take my leave now john. until next time”. You can't believe how much you've already typed into this stupid contraption. What a waste of time.

You scroll all the way up to your first command, “BOY.” It looks like there are more commands above it in green. Maybe someone was entering commands on this thing before you? 

There aren't many more. At the top of this list appears to be the very first command, “=>HOME”. Then “=>VIEW” “SWITCH 2” “SWITCH 3” “SWITCH 4” “SWITCH 1” “ESC” “LOCK ROOM 3” “VIEW” and “REBOOT”.

You type => SWITCH 2, activating the screen to the left of the current screen. The signal is garbled, and you have no idea what you're looking at. Some sort of filthy bearded beggar pleading for help? No one is around, and nothing is happening. You seem to be locked out of any sort of interaction with whatever's happening on this monitor, as indicated by the padlock symbol in the corner.

You try => SWITCH 3, which changes the active screen to the one below screen 2. It's another one of these rapscallions, this one wearing shades and holding a broken sword. This monitor is locked too. You can't tell him what to do. Not that you really want to, since it just looks like more confusing nonsense to you. You do not want to know why there is a floating bird-thing with a sword through it, or pieces of a stuffed toy below it.

You consider switching to SCREEN 4, but decide against it. You have a feeling that whatever's there would just confuse you even more, and you don't even really care all that much anyway.

You type => HOME. All four screens activate. Together they display a house shape in green and a countdown, starting at four hours and thirteen minutes.

You try to type => REBOOT. You can't! Nothing is working anymore. The timer seems to have disabled the keyboard.

Enough of this nonsense. You are an important mayor and this absurd contraption has wasted enough of your time. You've got a city to govern with a carapaced fist! (Which is to say firm, yet polished, and supple as the situation demands.) 

Anyway this will help you kill some time while you wait for that clock to count down.

You should create employment opportunities for citizen cans. You temporarily dismantle city hall, leaving the roof behind to protect the light. This frees up all the canpower available to create a vigilant town militia. You divide them into two groups, marking them with distinct teams and ranks using the piece of white chalk and the motor oil. Ranks are denoted with symbols such as a horse head or a crown. You then organize them in phalanx across the countryside, preparing for a stiff training regimen. When you are through with them, your forces will be a well oiled machine. Chalk another one up to bold leadership!

You proceed to lead your men to victory. The pieces move and are captured via certain ancient rules until one side reaches checkmate. You waste more than four hours on this tomfoolery.

You pause to mourn the loss of citizen Tab. Your caffeinated jittering must have agitated all the little bubbles curiously hidden in the liquid, creating too much pressure in the can. You speculate this is why it exploded as you nervously eye the timer displaying 4:04. 

You are starting to wonder what will happen when it reaches zero. Maybe it would be best not to be near it when this happens.


	24. Act II: Be Somewhere Else

### Chapter 24: Act II: Be Somewhere Else

Minutes in the future…

…Though perhaps not as few as implied by circumstance...

A peregrine mendicant trundles precious cargo beneath the gleam of the celestially ominous. The shopping cart full of mailboxes does not roll very well over the desert sand, but that is no deterrent.

Something glitters overhead.


	25. Act II: 4 Minutes and Counting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should be able to hover over the morse code for the translation into English, theoretically (This may only work on computers).
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ WV
>   * _Where:_ Command Station
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> mentions of self-harm, negative self-talk, reckless button-pushing, cliffhanger

###  Chapter 25: Act II: 4 Minutes and Counting

You say a bittersweet goodbye to your beloved city. It is time to move on to greener pastures. By which of course you mean an arid, sandy wasteland upon which nothing green has grown in years.

The door shuts behind you, leaving you at the bottom of a shaft not much wider than you are. A panel on the door becomes illuminated. As you ponder over the marks on the panel, you hear another mechanical sound overhead. With a _chung_ sound, bars suddenly stretch over the circular opening above you.

The LCD panel on the door appears to have a touchscreen interface. Most of the panel is taken up with the white outline of a circle. Within the circle are three equidistant rectangles, joined in the center by another circle. There is a triangle within this circle pointing to the rectangle with the boxy house shape inside it. Inside the other two rectangles are a spirograph and overlapping triangles. Outside the big circle, in the upper right corner of the panel, is a number 1.

Curious, you prod the funny-looking spirograph.

The rectangles on the panel spin, so that the spirograph is at the top, above the pointing triangle. The number in the corner changes to a 3. However, the rectangle turns red with a white padlock. It appears the funny-looking spirograph room is locked!

The floor rotates a full 360 degrees beneath you, while the surrounding wall seems to stay put. You lose your balance and end up sitting with your back against the wall.

You try selecting the triangley fractal. Again the rectangles on the panel spin. The triangley fractal room does not appear to be locked. The floor turns 120 degrees and the door opens.

You go through the door to find another room. It's the same size as the other one you just wasted all that time in, while a clock was ticking down to something which may or may not be your doom. Maybe there is something in here that will help you escape. 

Against the wall there is another perplexing contraption. Against the opposite wall is some sort of control panel which catches your eye. It has two large screens, but only one appears to be active. The active one, on the left, shows a view of a planet with several visible continents and horizontal and vertical lines crossing it. The screen on the right has a large circle containing five smaller circles connected by very tiny circles in a cross shape. 

Below the screens there are fields for numbers which appear to be modifiable with the dials to the right. To the left are symbols, showing horizontal lines, vertical lines, a mountain, and a clock. Some numbers are already supplied by default (-0.955766, -174.759521, 2491.3, and 2009-04-13-13T12:13:00), perhaps entered by the previous user. There are a few buttons below the number field, the largest blue one bearing the symbol marking this room. To the left and right are smaller green buttons.

Also it looks like there is a meter stick propped up there for some reason. You would like to tie your trusty knife to the meter stick, crafting a measuring spear through possibly the most advanced form of alchemy employed thus far. This is obviously the most important thing to do first. _Obviously_.

Or it _would_ obviously be the most important thing to do if you had remembered to bring your trusty knife, rather than leaving it in the pot on top of city hall.

You feel so insecure without your trusty knife, it makes you want to slit your wrists. Or at the very least, flog your carapace with some sort of measuring apparatus.

You turn to examine the perplexing contraption across the room. There is a large round platform with the fractal symbol in the center. Above the platform is some sort of tubing and a cylinder with a needle pointing down. You of course have no idea what it could possibly do. 

You adopt the only obvious course of action, which is to poke and prod it with your handy ruler. You are quite sure this is what science is all about.

You go back to the control panel which probably obviously controls that gizmo and you push the big blue button which is obviously probably the most obvious thing to push.

The numbers disappear, briefly replaced with a blue screen that says “APPEARIFY.” Across the room, you appearify a pumpkin. You immediately examine it.

It seems this mysterious gourd was transported (appearified!!!) from a specific time and location somewhere on this planet you are on. You wonder if the machine (APPEARIFIER!!!) will take any object that exists at whatever time and location you supply. 

There is a symbol carved on the pumpkin. It is sort of head-shaped, with pointy cheeks and pointy ears. You don't know what it means, and you doubt it will ever prove to be relevant in any way.

You consider dining on the ripe flesh of the plump vegetable, but your curiosity about the appearifier gets the better of you. You try to sneak a nibble from the green stem of the pumpkin nonetheless as you return across the room.

You first examine the attractive green buttons. 

The icon for the one on the left is that house shape you've seen plenty of times before. The right one on closer inspection appears to be the map for this underground facility, with an X marking its center. You push it. All of the numbers change. 

Perhaps these are the coordinates for the location of the center of this facility, along with the local date and time? If this is the case, it would make a useful reference point for your current bearings. One way to find out would be to attempt to appearify something from this facility. You fiddle with the dials.

It should be easy to zero in on a location relative to the center because you have an uncanny knack for tracking precise distances you have already traversed, in whatever units you choose. Your handy ruler gives you a good clue as to the basic unit of human measurement. You will go with that.

You nudge the coordinates very slightly and bump up the elevation by 0.5 human measurement units. You make sure to keep the time approximately what it was to begin with. You appearify your trusty knife in the pot.

You nudge the numbers a bit more and appearify a bunch of cans. This is so much more efficient than walking back to the other room to get them. You are to believe that time is at a premium, after all.

You think you should try to deappearify the pumpkin. 

No, wait; does this machine look like a deappearifier to you?? Honestly, the idea that an appearifier could both appearify and deappearify things is so laughably ridiculous, you would wish someone would deappearify your brain and reappearify it with a brain that is more smart and less dumb.

Instead you just carve off the top, exposing a decadent cache of gorgeous, seed-laden ambrosia. Needless to say you consume all of it rather quickly. But it turns out to be too gross to describe in detail.

Your meal completed, you wonder if you can move the spirograph switch from one screen to the other, but you cannot. It has a spirograph-shaped indentation, and possibly will require a special kind of key to turn it.

Something you can do is to appearify the firefly out of the amber. You release your blinky new friend. You will give her a name when something suitably whimsical occurs to you, which it does as soon as you think that thought.

You and Serenity consider new ways to waste more time with the appearifier. You are assuming she is a girl firefly even though you are not really sure that fireflies can even be girls. 

You target the extremely tasty rotten pumpkin that was sitting in the other room hours ago. However, it seems the appearifier cannot appearify something if it will create a time paradox. A gelatinous ghost pumpkin appearifies and quickly dissolves into a pile of unappetizing green sludge. 

Serenity blinks you a message of urgency.  
.-..  .   -   … / --.  ---!!!

You nearly forgot that while trapped in amber she was witness to all your tomfoolery and dillydallying in the other room, and knows the timer is about to expire. It is time to get this show on the road and escape. 

You reset the coordinates with the right green button again, and this time only adjust the elevation by approximately 10 human measurement units. The bars appear and fall into the green sludge still on the platform.

Time to get out of here! You start gathering up your belongings, shoving the cans into the pumpkin. Serenity chides you to hurry up with 26 seconds on the clock. At one point, a can of Tab slips out of your hand and lands on the right green button. You craft your measuring spear and sling it over your back. Serenity thinks you are being incredibly silly. The top of the pumpkin doesn't fit with all the cans shoved in, so you chow down on it. With 5 seconds left you race for the ladder, but slip off. Your pumpkin and cans fall around you.

 

Psyche?


	26. Act II: Leave the Readers Hanging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry.
> 
> In this chapter you are Andrew Hussie.

###  Chapter 26: Act II: Leave the Readers Hanging

You attempt the rare and highly dangerous 5X CLIFFHANGER COMBO, and fail. 

We are doing it, man. 

We are making this happen.


	27. Act II: Unpsyche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ WV
>   * _Where:_ Command station
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 


###  Chapter 27: Act II: Unpsyche

You successfully reach the top of the shaft with your pumpkin of cans intact, with just enough time to take look at the desert you traversed to get here. For a moment you think you see something resembling a large stone hand holding an orb, but you have no time to look closer. The shaft beneath you rumbles. With a blast freeing it from the sand, the cylinder holding all the rooms you were in lifts off from the desert. You rise thousands of feet into the sky, then head west.

Beneath you passes sand and more sand, with the occasional relic of a dead civilization. As you approach the drop off where an ocean used to be, you lean over the edge of your ride to stare. There is a white carapacian pushing a cart of something toward a huge metal apple fallen from a huge white tree. To your disappointment, you are gone too quickly to look your fill.

You cross the former ocean, slowing as you approach some ruins. Your station descends gently to land in a puff of dust. You hurry to get yourself on the ground, but freeze to stare up at the temple in wonder. A frog squats upon a squarish pillar.

You have no idea that millions of years in the past a meteor landed here next to a volcano, and this temple was constructed. Later the crater filled with water to become a lagoon. The island that once existed was covered with lush greenery, and people lived here.

You have no idea how important this place and this time are. You are just amazed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of Act II animation can be found [here](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=002657)


	28. Act III: Do Chores

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The curtains open on Act III.
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Your house
>   * _When:_ Several hours before the present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Questionable science, disappearing pumpkins, excessive use of exclamation points, irrepressible optimism, unexplained precognition

###  Chapter 28: Act III: Do Chores

You are napping on the floor of your greenhouse by your flowers. Under your hand is a note in green ink and by your feet is a flute. On your other side is a pumpkin with a shape like an animal's head carved into it. 

No there isn't. What pumpkin? There is no pumpkin sitting in plain sight, though there is a brief impression of the ambiguous sound effect _-IFY_ coming from thin air.

Your name is Jade Harley and you wake abruptly from a nap you don't remember taking.

This is not unusual. You tend to fall asleep in strange places with no warning whatsoever. There are a lot of things you don't remember until you are reminded of them.

Your latest nap seems to have taken place on the floor of your garden atrium. This part of the room room contains half a dozen gardening tables propped up on stacked terra cotta pots. Four rectangular tables contain colorful flowers. The two square tables in the middle are where you grow your vegetables, such as asparagus and pumpkins. Through the windows that make up the entirety of the walls you can see blue sky, puffy white clouds, and a portion of another wing of your atrium.

You pick up your flute off the floor and play a silly flute refrain. Actually, you basically press keys at random. Wow, you really suck at this thing! 

Maybe you should try playing an instrument you actually know how to play instead, like the one in your bedroom. Honestly you have no idea where this flute even came from. Things seem to appear and disappear around here all the time. Especially, to your unending chagrin, any sort of large orange gourd that might be lying around. 

You consider throwing the flute down in disgust. On second thought, it was a perfectly nice flute and there is no reason to take your frustration out on it. You just need some practice. You might as well keep it.

But before you captchalogue the flute you will need to set your fetch modus first!

You have a wide variety of fetch modi to choose from. You were really excited when your grandpa bought you a modus set for Christmas. He is a total badass, even if a little strict. Your twelve fetch options are all classic games, like Pictionary, Clue, Jenga, Ouija, Operation, and Memory.

You typically opt for the Memory modus when it comes to matters of day-to-day practicality. You set your modus to Memory, and captchalogue the flute. You allot 9 cards to the modus from your deck, since that will be more than enough for your needs at the moment. The modus grabs 9 more cards for matching purposes. The flute is split up on two blank cards and mixed randomly into the grid. To retrieve the item you must first pick one card, and then pick its matching card. 

For the typical sylladexer this modus presents a frustrating guessing game and a lot of wasted time on mismatching. But you like it because you seem to have a knack for always guessing right on the first try!

You get the idea to squeal like a piglet and fertilize some plants. It is an awfully silly idea and is basically a waste of everyone's time. You will predictably disregard this thought and focus on more sensible objectives at once.

On second thought, you grab your bag of fertilizer and climb up on one of your tables. You leap from one table to another with your open bag, squealing in between your giggles. Oh my god this is so much fun!

When you have had enough fun, you captchalogue the bag of fertilizer. Then you study your hands.

You tend to have a lot of things on your mind at once, and you can be a little forgetful. So you keep a variety of colored strings on your fingers as reminders. They are blue, green, purple, red, yellow, and salmon. Each one means there is something different to remember at a certain time. 

In fact, looking at your index finger reminds you that there is something important to remember now! It is your friend John's birthday. The green string reminds you that John's birthday package will arrive today. The blue string _also_ reminds you that John's birthday package will arrive today, though in a way that means something slightly different. 

You are further reminded that you have some things to do outside your house soon. But you should stop by your room first for some supplies, and most importantly, to see if John is online and wish him a happy birthday!

Before you go, you snap up the pumpkin which seems suitably ripe for the taking beside you. Hopefully the safety of your sylladex will prevent it from being spirited away like so many of its ephemeral predecessors.

Then you make your way to the middle of the garden atrium, where a stairwell joins the four atrium wings. There are several small potted fruit trees interspersed between the pillars holding up the ceiling. Lush hanging baskets of flowers add a riot of color. In the middle of the circular staircase is a circular platform with a triangley fractal on it.

Upstairs is your grandfather's laboratory as well as your bedroom.

Your Memory modus is hardly any fun without much stuff in it, so you decide to stock up on fresh produce to fill some more cards. 

You pick a juicy red crab apple from the tree to your right. You go pick a nice looking key lime from the tree across the east wing. Then a delicious mandarin orange from the tree to the south. Those are your favorite. And finally a ripe yellow eureka lemon. Modus fun aside, you feel it is impossible to have too many fresh fruits and vegetables on hand.

Now you are ready to go upstairs to your bedroom. You almost never use the stairs. Instead you stand on the platform and transportalize upstairs. Just above is your room. You take the stairs up the one remaining level to the top floor. You enter your bedroom. 

On this side of the room you are immediately confronted with numerous artifacts highlighting your various interests. 

You are an avid follower of cartoon shows of considerable nostalgic appeal, covering your wall with various posters. You have a profound zeal for marvelous and fantastical fauna of an anthropomorphological persuasion, such as your plush Squiddles. You have an uncanny knack for nuclear physics, and not infrequently can be found dabbling in rather advanced gadgetry. You enjoy sporadic fits of narcolepsy; your love of gardening transcends the glass confines of your atrium, with flowers on the windowsill and hanging from your ceiling; and you are at times prone to patterns of precognitive prognostication. 

In addition, directly in front of you is a purple chest covered in white moons and stars. Several plush Squiddles and Manthro Chap dolls sit on and around the chest. To your left is your wardrobifier, distinguished from a mere wardrobe by the beacon on top of it. Behind you is your electric bass, which you actually do know how to play. To your right and a little behind you is your bed, which has a blue sun-and-cloud-print bedspread.

You consider very briefly the question: What will you do? 

But you quickly realize this is only one half of your room, and is therefore host to only half of your interests to choose from. The other half displays yet more articles of your aforementioned interests, and then some. 

Additional telltale signs of your enthusiasm for nostalgic television shows mingle with your assortment of game-hunting firearms. Most of your rifles are leaning against the wall next to your bed. You are a skilled markswoman, though your cross-hairs would never settle on an innocent creature, anthropomorphically persuaded or otherwise. 

Your worktable is littered with equipment to facilitate your tinkering. For you, experimentation is not a particularly exact science, and you lean heavily on sharp intuition for consistently and eerily optimal results. Nevertheless, you have still not been able to get that broad, flat gizmo that looks like an open window there to work, which is a design you have borrowed from one of your grandpa's more mysterious inventions. 

You are a great admirer of his, and you are not alone. Your grandfather is a world renowned explorer-naturalist-treasure hunter-archeologist-scientist-adventurer-big game hunter-billionaire extraordinaire. He has taught you everything you know. 

But in spite of all his lessons, it is still difficult to escape his stern lectures when you are on the way out of the house to run your errands. He spends most of his time in the grand foyer, stewing in his own intensity and charisma. And today will likely be no exception. Among the errands you have planned is to venture out to find your pet and best friend named Becquerel. This animal must be fed and he will not be happy if he is not. And if he is not happy then you will not be happy. 

But first you really should dig out your computer and say hi to John! 

First you quickly retrieve your firearms from the wall and equip your trusty hunting rifle to your riflekind strife specibus. There would be hell to pay if grandad caught you leaving the house without it.

You notice that the design on your t-shirt has changed from a leaf to a radioactive symbol. You don't have to wonder about it, because you left the wardrobifier on its randomization setting. You may contemplate which shirt design you favor the most and commit to that setting in the near future.

You would like to captchalogue the nearest Squiddles doll and hug it. Just before you can grab one, the powerful electromagnets concealed in their underbellies become activated, and two of them get all tangled up with each other playfully. You clap briefly as the tangle buddies lace their tentacles together. You captchalogue them.

You have the unwelcome thought that you might lose interest in fauna and never speak of it again, but you could _never_ do that. 

What marvelous creatures they are. What a daring dream, to combine the finest qualities of humanity with the elegance and nobility of the animal kingdom. How you wish you could know their world. To hear one night those muted pawpads traipse up your stairs. A low but friendly growl unsettles your slumber, and as the sopor seeps from your eyes they detect a sharp pair of ears cutting moonlight. A mysterious wolven tongue invites. Wouldn't these ears suit you? Would not this proud long snout assist you in the hunt? 

No need to answer. Words slough from the busy mind like a useless dead membrane as a more visceral sapience takes over. Something simpler is in charge now, a force untouched by the concerns and burdens of the upright, that farcical yoke the bipedal tow. It now drives you through the midnight brush, your paws whisking through creepers, unearthing with each bold stomp bright odors demanding investigation. But not for long, as you and your new friend must claim the night with piercing howls moonward. 

You eat a weird bug and don't even care.

Ahem.

Speaking of your toys, you pick up and admire one of your Manthro Chaps. They are wonderful friends and are always cheerful and pleasant fellows. This one has a green bodysuit and a pink moustache and hair. Each Manthro Chap comes with a number of accessories, including articles of formal attire, a vaccination kit, and a dishwasher-safe slop trough.

Why dear Mr. Coxcomb, how ever will you be received at the barnyard gala without the trappings of a proper gentleman? 

You gather all your dolls into a rather cozy looking pile.

With your toys gathered together, you go back over to your wardrobifier. You deactivate the randomization mode and set it to cycle through three shirt designs: a spirograph, an atom, and a sun. The decision was tough, but you think you came to the best possible conclusion.

Through the window next to your wardrobifier, you can see that it is another beautiful day in your neighborhood. It is peaceful and quiet as usual. A rather imposing volcano looms over your house, which has been inactive for centuries. Though dormant on the surface, the volcanic activity deep underground provides your house with a source of geothermal power. You are not sure why your grandfather decided to draw from this source of energy when he had the unlimited power of the atom at his disposal. But it has been this way for as long as you can remember. 

You have chalked it up to your family's longstanding propensity for eclectic fursuits wait you mean pursuits.

You should retrieve your fursuit from your magic chest.

What is this nonsense about fursuits!!! You do not own a fursuit. You think anthropomorphic fauna are really cute and enchanting and all, but it has never occurred to you to dress as one. Sure, it is fun to imagine what it would be like to run wild with a pack of wolves, or purr and frolic with a litter of kittens, but dressing up as an animal just seems ridiculous. It would still just be a silly girl draped in a raggedy synthetic tufty piece of crap, and seriously who are you trying to kid with that sort of baloney! 

Anyway it is not a magic chest, it it your gadget chest, which you have adapted for storing a number of useful gizmos. It was once your oracle's trunk, a gift from your grandfather of course, and still contains many silly fortune telling knickknacks, all of which are completely bogus.

You open the purple chest. Among the fortune telling knickknacks are these items: a crystal ball plus compulsory green velvet pillow, a tarot deck, a magic 8-ball, a magic cue ball, and one of your favorite books of all time, _Problem Sooth_. 

Among the useful gizmos are of course your computer, which you keep inside a fun Squiddles lunchbox for easy transport, and a couple of gizmos you keep handy so you don't always have to make the long trip to the kitchen. The cube with a flame on the side is a cookalizer for preparing delicious meals, and the cube with a snowflake is a refrigerator, a name which clearly is a wacky variation on the much more common household item, the refrigifyificator.

The magic 8-ball and cue ball are so stupid and useless! When the magic 8-ball isn't being frustratingly ambiguous, its forecast is always wrong! You have tested it numerous times with certain facts you know to be true. “Not Exactly” is its reply when you ask if it is your friend John's birthday today. See? Stupid! 

You guess maybe it could be used as a reverse-prediction device, and always trust the opposite of what it says. But that seems dumb to you. And anyway, the thing gives you a bad vibe. You might consider smashing it, but you are a little superstitious about whatever ominous consequences that might have, even if the occult talisman in question is a cheap piece of garbage.

The magic cue ball on the other hand is said to make predictions with alarming precision and specificity. Unfortunately it lacks a portal on its surface that allows you to view the prediction. 

You put both of these pieces of junk back in the box.

You captchalogue the refrigerator. You might as well grab the cookalizer too. No portable kitchen is complete without it. 

You take your lunchtop too, because obviously you're going to be using that pretty soon. 

Whoops, there goes your flute onto the floor, shunted out of your full sylladex. But who cares? You've got chores to do.

Before you go out to feed Bec, you will need to prepare a meal for him. You clear some space on your work table so you can set up your refrigerator and cookalizer. Weird gizmos and green chunks of rock are swept onto the floor.

It's time to play Memory to retrieve your cookalizer. Unfortunately, it takes you a few tries to get it right. It's almost like someone lacking your precognitive abilities is playing instead while you just give hints. 

No, no... warmer. Warmer. Cooler. Cooler. COLD. Warmer... Yes. NO. Cold. ICE COLD. Warmer. Warmer...You end up with the key lime. Way to go. Try again.

HOT. Wait... No. Cold. Really cold. FROZEN FUCKING TUNDRA. That's a lemon. You frown.

After the orange is selected, you are beginning to regret breaking the fourth wall for this ill advised escapade. The last attempt nets the apple. Look at all these fruits on the loose. Good luck trying to settle them down.

You just deploy the gadgets yourself. Much better.

If you stick the fruits in the refrigerator they will stay fresh. These fruits are unlikely to become less impudent any time soon regardless of where they are stored, but you stick them in anyway. They vanish in a blue flash. Then you take a look at the refrigerator's rotary interface. You wonder what he is in the mood for today? Bread, cheese, celery, fruit, and milk would probably not entice him much. Chicken and fish might go over better, but you dial up a thick t-bone steak, which you are sure Becquerel is in the mood for because he is in the mood for steak every day and is never in the mood for anything else. The steak appears on top of the refrigerator.

But he does like his steak well cooked. The dial on the cookalizer has four options: “thaw,” “cook,” “irradiate,” and a mushroom cloud.

You set the cookalizer to lightly irradiate the steak. Bec does prefer his steak rare after all. But you will not dignify the thought of turning the knob much further because you are not retarded.

The cookalizer spouts a green flame. It does not take long for the steak to cook. You captchalogue the irradiated steak and save it for your trip outside.

You probably shouldn't waste much more time. You wouldn't want all those nice depleted steak isotopes to settle down.

You go pick up your bass. You wouldn't exactly call it an atomic bass, but it is heavily customized to accommodate a high level of musical virtuosity, the perfect instrument for the eclectically spirited. 

You've tuned the strings way down of course because your stumpy arms can't reach the low notes. You switch your eclectic bass to its advanced setting. Extra parts pop out of the body of the instrument, giving you two keyboards, an extra neck and strings, and electronic sliders to alter the sounds. You promptly switch it back, since obviously it's too complicated to play it in person like this. The default setting is your preferred mode for casual jamming. 

And since you can't possibly waste enough time playing music, casually jam is exactly what you're gonna do.

You play a hauntingly relaxing bassline. The sound channels through the speakers you have set up, allowing you to play to an audience of flowers and lily pads. Outside, a blue box is airdropped to your island.

You captchalogue the bass and the portable amp from the wall socket, too.

You cross the room and make yourself comfy in your plushy pile before getting down to business with your computer. When you open your lunchtop, you activate another gizmo. You have no screen as such. Instead, your desktop is projected holographically in front of you, with the icons for your Echidna browser, Pesterchum, and FRESHjamz! floating above the background image of a dragon on a log and floating clouds and galaxies. Your keyboard is likewise projected toward you, directly from the lunchtop.

You activate Pesterchum Enamel. Hey look, John is online! Hooray! 

Also, Dave's name on your chumroll is flashing. It looks like he pestered you about something yesterday but you missed it. Your other friend's name, tentacleTherapist, is grayed out.

Beneath your chumroll is your trollslum, with a list of individuals you really don't want to talk to. All of them are grayed out but carcinoGeneticist. Thank goodness.

\--gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 2009-04-13—12:34 —  
GG: hi happy birthday john!!!!! <3

You greet John but he does not respond. He is undoubtedly gallivanting around his house in a state of barely restrained birthday mirth. He may also be retrieving the two packages and the two envelopes which you are certain came in the mail for him earlier. 

You will wait a little while and see if he returns before you head out. In another window you open Dave's message to see if he left you a sweet new rap. It does not appear so, but you just never know with that crazy and cool guy. 

TurntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 2009-04-12 -- 23:14  
TG: hey  
TG: oh  
TG: youre asleep again arent you  
TG: or do you even know if you are  
TG: i still dont know how that works  
TG: its like nothing means anything   
TG: its so cool getting hella chumped by your coquettish damn riddles all the time   
TG: i dont know why i believe anything you say im like the grand marshal of gross chumpage   
TG: waving around my faggoty chumpductor baton   
TG: assitant director of chumpography   
TG: celebrated author ernest chumpingway   
TG: wait weak   
TG: chumpelstiltskin   
TG: uh   
TG: chumpeldipshit   
TG: yeah   
TG: youre asleep y/n?   
TG: a/s/l?   
TG: s = species   
TG: baboon?   
TG: kangaroo rat?   
TG: if kangaroo rat yiff twice plz   
TG: ok well youre not saying anything so i guess whether youre nonawake or unasleep or whatever youre just not around and im wasting good material   
TG: even worse im wasting a killer fursona here   
TG: like   
TG: i dont know like a wide open v shaped leotard and a fuck ton of body paint   
TG: some like sinewy back arching cirque du soleil looking motherfucker   
TG: always low to the ground gettin a good prowl on   
TG: like i dropped my keys in the dark   
TG: nimblest son of a bitch who had the gumption to glue a nasty pair of latex cat lips to his face   
TG: for a reason that wasnt a joke   
TG: jade hey   
TG: where are you   
TG: seriously im sitting here tonight with a fucking bag of kibble jacked open on my lap and primed for goddamn bear   
TG: and youre gone   
TG: btw my name is Akwete Purrmusk   
TG: hardest buttock in the jungle   
TG: tempered steel   
TG: hey yeah just wanted to give you this remix i finished   
TG: here   
turntechGodhead [TG] sent gardenGnostic [GG] file "explore remix.mp3"   
TG: so yeah   
TG: you dont have to respond to any of that btw   
TG: ill probably forget half the shit i said anyway   
TG: talk to you tomorrow

Sooooo cooooooool.

You open the FRESHjamz media player and add Dave's remix to the playlist. You already have several mixes from Dave, either using your music (“Crystalanthemums” or your friends' (“Showtime” for John, “Aggrieve” for Rose). And of course you have [several of your own compositions ](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=002730) (e.g., “Verdancy (Bassline)” and “Ohgodwhat Remix”).

You open your web browser and visit MSPA. You navigate to a random page in the middle of the latest epic. 

You see a badly-drawn rendition of a black-haired boy wearing a wizard's hat, square glasses, and a Slimer t-shirt sitting and looking befuddled on the lawn. A toilet with a cake is to one side, and a pogo ride is to the other. Behind the boy is a house.

Looks like he was just finishing up some sort of weird tangential intermission here. Whatever it was, it clearly advanced the plot in no relevant way whatsoever.

You click on “End intermission” and advance to the next screen. An animations loads beneath the title [“Midnight Crew: Act 1031”](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=002733).

A yellow crescent moon hangs in a purple night sky outside a film noir cityscape. As it sets, the view drops to the underground hideout of the Midnight Crew.

In the center of the room is a round table, upon which rests the heist plans with a hole in the center, and four aces. Around the table are four black carapacians in trenchcoats. Each picks up an ace, which reveals their identities. Diamonds Droog's ace of diamonds transforms into an ultra-violence cue stick, short Clubs Deuce's ace of clubs becomes a table leg, brawny Hearts Boxers' ace of hearts becomes a TV antenna, and Spades Slick's ace of spades morphs into a cast iron horse hitcher.

There is a brief shot of the Felt gang against a flame background: green-skinned fellows in green suits. Each wears a hat with a number in a white circle on the front, corresponding to the colors of pool balls. 

The Midnight Crew and the Felt are locked in some kind of strife. Spades Slick is fighting numbers one and four near a vault while Clubs Deuce stands around. In a warehouse, Diamonds Droog is firing upon number two when three comes very slowly up behind him. 

There is a brief shot of the Midnight Crew performing on what looks like the stage of a nightclub. The animation ends with a black spade with “Midnight Crew” written in red across the middle.

You've killed a little time, but still no sign of John. You decide to pester Dave instead.

gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 2009-04-13 -- 12:36 

GG: hi dave!!   
TG: hey sup   
GG: not much sup with you!!   
GG: bro! hehehe   
TG: haha   
TG: good one   
TG: s'alright being chill i guess you know how it goes   
GG: great! feeling cool today?   
GG: mr cool guy?   
TG: oh man you know it   
GG: sooooo cooooooool!!!   
TG: you know shit is ice cold up in here   
TG: shit is wicked bananas i am telling you   
GG: :D   
GG: so have you talked to john today???   
TG: yeah we were just talking a while ago about how he sucks at his sylladex   
TG: can you believe he uses stack that kid is ridiculous   
GG: lol   
GG: well that doesnt sound like much fun!   
TG: what was it you use again...   
TG: wait nm   
TG: i forgot whenever we talk about your goofy modusses i get a migrane. what do you want with john   
GG: :)   
GG: i want to tell him happy birthday and ask him about his birthday package!   
TG: oh yeah   
TG: i was being sort of cagey and told him to check the mail cause i was wondering if mine came yet   
GG: i think it did!   
TG: yeah?   
GG: and i think mine came too   
TG: so uh   
TG: i guess you want to know if he likes it or something?   
GG: no!!!!!!!   
GG: he will not open it   
GG: he will lose it!!!   
TG: oh   
TG: uh   
TG: wow sorry to hear that i guess?   
GG: no its good actually!   
GG: because he will find it again later when he really needs it   
GG: which of course is why i sent it in the first place!   
TG: see like   
TG: i never get how you know these things   
GG: i dont know   
GG: i just know that i know!   
TG: hmm alright   
GG: anyway i have to go!   
GG: i have to feed bec which is always a bit of an undertaking   
TG: man   
TG: if i were you i would just take that fucking devilbeast out behind the woodshed and blow its head off   
GG: heheheh!   
GG: i dont think i could if i tried!!!   
TG: yeah   
TG: say hi to your grand dad for me too ok   
GG: ._.   
GG: yes i guess an encounter with him is almost certain   
GG: it is usually........   
GG: intense!!!   
TG: well yeah isnt it always with family   
TG: but he sounds like a total badass   
GG: yeah he totally is!!!   
GG: anyway gotta go!   
TG: see ya   
GG: <3

You would immediately go take care of your errand, but you notice that Rose is online, and pestering you. 

TT: I require a font of frighteningly accurate yet infuriatingly nonspecific information.   
TT: Do you know where I can find a wellspring of this sort? 

You can't not answer.

GG: hahaha yes ok but we cant talk for long!!!   
TT: You have plans?   
GG: well yes i do but its just that you will lose your internet connection soon!!!!!   
GG: and we wont talk again for a pretty long time   
GG: not until you enter!   
TT: Enter?   
GG: yeah!   
TT: This is what I was talking about.   
TT: This was the itch that needed scratching.   
TT: My avarice for the inscrutable. It is limitless.   
GG: lol what did you want to know?   
TT: You've been insisting today was the big day.   
TT: We would all play a game you didn't know the name of.   
TT: A game you said I'd get in the mail, and did.   
TT: One that would help me answer some questions.   
TT: But Strider is being obtuse, I can't catch John at his computer, you don't even have the game yourself, and on top of all that, my internet is unstable.   
TT: So are you sure today is the day?   
GG: there sure are a lot of challenges but yes i am sure!!   
GG: dave is cool, you know he will come around when the time is right   
GG: he just has a lot of work to do first   
GG: and so do you!   
GG: youll need to keep searching for a stable signal and power source, it will be hard but dont give up!!!   
GG: and dont worry about me either, focus on playing with john first   
GG: it all starts with you two!   
TT: Is there nothing else you can say to prepare me for this?   
TT: I'm sure you think little of blithely upsetting dark forces with Grandpa Moreau over there on Hellmurder Island, but honestly I've only read a few books on it.   
GG: haha dark? thats ridiculous!   
GG: i dont really know what to tell you other than its not going to be what you think it is   
GG: and most importantly you will have your questions answered, but they will be the ones you havent thought to ask yet!   
GG: just be patient and be brave youll see   
GG: it will be fun!!!!!!   
GG: uh oh looks like youve got to go   
GG: take care rose! <3<3<3 

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 12:54 –

You try one more time to reach John. 

GG: helloooooo??  
GG: ok i will talk to you later!!! :D

John will not be available until later. By then he will have his hands full, as will you. You pack up your lunchtop and get ready to take care of some business downstairs. You head down the spiral staircase from your room to the transportalizer.

Try as you might, you can't stop your mind from drifting to the fate of your friends. You dwell on a particular configuration of reminders on your finger. On your left ring finger are three strings: green nearest the tip, then yellow, then fuchsia nearest your hand.


	29. Act III: Descend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your house (mausoleum)
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Reference to dead pet

###  Chapter 29: Act III: Descend

You are now the other girl several hours in the future. 

Your heart is still pounding from your close shave with a burning tree as you reenter your dubious shelter. The recalcitrant generator remains defunct, and you can see no feasible method of restarting it. Pounding on it and screaming had certainly been fruitless. You are slightly troubled, uncertain what your next course of action should be.

You pause briefly, and stare at the hole in the floor where the slab was. It appears a secret passage in the mausoleum has been opened. This is certainly fortuitous.

It's getting awfully toasty in here. You gather up your belongings, including your dead cat. You leave the empty coffin behind.

With little hesitation, you ease your way into the hole and grasp the ladder rungs worked into the side of the shaft. The drop in temperature as you descend is most welcome.

At the bottom you take a deep breath, the smell of dank earth filling your nostrils. You turn around, and find a long, rectangular hallway lit with an eerie green light. You have no choice but to approach, though you do not know what you will find.


	30. Act III: Meet Sentry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ PM
>   * _Where:_ a desert planet
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 


###  Chapter 30: Act III: Meet Sentry

You hear a roaring sound, and look up at the cloudless sky. Something cylindrical passes overhead. You think maybe you see someone peering down at you from the top of it, but the mysterious flying object is out of sight too quickly for you to be certain.

You look back down and ahead, toward your destination. You can clearly make out the massive white not-tree. You know it is not a real tree, because you have seen nothing growing on this world.

You have to travel a little further before you can see the huge round metal container at the base of the not-tree. Judging by the sideways house stencil, the sphere is on its side, and the spirograph would normally be on top. You step closer to study the green markings, which are somewhat worn away.

A hole bigger than you are opens way above your head. A metal “worm” comes through. A sentry?

It snakes its way down the sphere to get eye-to-eye with you. Its closed mouth looks bigger than your head. You blink.

Then it turns on its long neck to investigate your cart of mailboxes. You startle, but before you can object, it takes a mailbox in its mouth. _Nom nom nom_.

This cannot be tolerated!

You reach for the black sword at your waist. It is a horrible relic of a past you do not want to remember, with a wicked black hilt topped with the cross of the king. The blade will serve your purpose.

The blasphemous sentry does not even see your swing.

After beheading the worm, you pry open the cover on the flat “side” of the sphere. Behind it is a shaft with ladder rungs, leading into a command room of some sort. You gather up your cargo and crawl inside.

There is a four-paneled screen sitting sideways against one wall. On the screen is the green house that is printed outside, and a timer currently at 9 seconds. You were able to fashion a stool out of mailboxes, using two mailboxes for each level and alternating levels set perpendicular to each other. It is a little wobbly, but it will do. Your hand hovers next to the keyboard, where >HOME has been typed.

As you are balancing there, the timer zeroes out. The room rolls as the sphere rights itself. You and your mailboxes are jostled around the room. The door is blocked by metal. You feel gravity pressing you into the floor as the sphere rises into the air. There is a whir above you, of something large rotating very rapidly.

You have no idea where you are going.


	31. Act III: Strife!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was made immeasurably better by blackSparrow.
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ the roof
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Lil Cal

###  Chapter 31: Act III: Strife!

Suddenly your bro is in front of you, sword at the ready. He is wearing his triangular anime shades and his trademark baseball cap. He is tall and lanky, and as you know he is also wicked fast. He only faces you for a moment before vanishing from your sight.

##### Round 1:

Lil Cal appears in front of you, his head bobbing as Bro's silhouette flashes back and forth behind him, manipulating the puppet so fast it looks like the little man's moving on his own. You tumble through the air to slash at Cal with your sword, but the little guy dodges your strikes. He disappears, and you spin to find him behind you. You tuck into a summersaulting slash, but Cal dodges away again. His wood jaw chatters at you as he pokes you mockingly in the head, then kicks you repeatedly. You roll away and out of his range, and Cal drops to the rooftop. You know he won't stay down long.

Sure enough, you get to your feet, and so does Cal. You try a couple more blows, Cal deftly dodging out of the way of each one. Then, he disappears entirely and reappears on your head and oh god he's sitting on your head get him off _get him off_.

You flail... uh, you mean, you try to knock his shoes out of your face, since you can't see. You bring your sword up toward the top of your head to slice the puppet up, but he is lifted away, leaving you swiping your sword into thin air. You can't quite see bro flash-stepping around, until he abruptly stops to shove Cal in your face. You fall backwards on your ass, unable to escape from the puppet's floppy limps.

Oh God, that face.

It's obvious you can't fight back like this. Your only choice is to abscond. You throw off the puppet and make for the door.

Bro cuts through that option, finally dropping the ironic puppeteer act to pull out his own katana.


	32. Act III: Explore Restricted Area

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter notes:
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Tunnel from mausoleum
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Reference to dead pet and ashes

###  Chapter 32: Act III: Explore Restricted Area

At the end of the secret passage is a large laboratory. On one wall above the exit sign is the logo of Skaianet. “SN” is written in large green letters. Within the curve of the S are two designs: an atom at the top, and the by now familiar spirograph on the bottom.

You glance around the lab, but there are no scientists to be found, mad or otherwise. Or anyone for that matter. The lab appears to be deserted. There is a kiosk though, which seems to monitor the lab's enormous hubgrid. The cube hubs are arranged in squares of 144 hubs, with the larger squares making an eight-by-eight grid with two bisecting walkways. Where the walkways meet in the center is a circular platform. You will have to get closer to make out the symbol.

You take a closer look at the kiosk. Looks like a mapping of each hub's index. At the top of the screen it says SN_HUBGRID 44.519872,-74.820017. Beneath that is the gray 8x8 grid.

It appears one of the hubs in the third section in the top row was recently unlocked. Specifically, hub 0413.

Having gathered the pertinent data from the kiosk, you continue down the walkway through the hubgrid. At the center, you find a little stage that looks perfect for supporting a spectacularly silly dance. Or it would if standing on it didn't make you a little nervous, and also if that didn't sound like a retarded idea given the circumstances. 

It looks sort of like the various contraptions you've been deploying in John's house, though you can't recall seeing that fractal of triangles before. You wonder what it does?

You might as well attempt to plug your laptop into the nearby hub. You retrieve your laptop from the root card of your sylladex. Everything else once again falls to the ground. Jaspers lands on the platform. A moment later, he's gone.

Great, you just vaporized your dead cat. Oh well. Ashes to ashes you guess. 

There's got to be a better way to deal with this lousy tree modus. You examine your fetch modus card. Looks like you can choose between picking leaves (“LEAF”), or awkwardly uprooting the whole tree (“ROOT”), as you've been doing. 

Well this is a no-brainer. You select “LEAF”. You also turn off auto-balance, since its consequences can be a little mystifying sometimes.

You gather up all your items again in an order that places your laptop in a conveniently accessible leaf. You're not sure why you didn't do this a lot sooner. 

It's kind of a funny looking tree now, with three cards coming from the root (the velvet pillow) on the left and only one on the right, but your concern for structural elegance is at an all time low.

As long as you're going to plug in your computer, you might as well find that hub. You carefully walk on top of the hubs, searching for the correct placement.

Here it is. HUB SN_LAB0413. It is unlocked, and thus removable from the grid. You suspect this was the same beacon transmitting the unsecured signal you were using earlier. You carefully lift it out and up, setting it down next to its hole. You pick the laptop leaf from the tree. Much more convenient!

You plug your laptop into the hub, then captchalogue the hub and then the laptop. 

There must be a better place around here to set up your computer. This huge grid of electronics is sort of uninviting. You look around. 

Something on the far wall catches your interest. There's the SN again, beneath which is says “SKAIANET LABORATORY UNESTABLISHED IN:” It's another one of these ominous countdowns. You didn't notice it when you first entered the lab about a minute ago. It looks like this one may have been ticking for years, but there's only 3:14 left.

Whatever it's ticking down to, there isn't much time. You can only hope that when you turn on your computer again, there will be a connection invitation from one Mr. Strider. You are certain he has obtained his brother's copy of the game by now without any foreseeable difficulty.


	33. Act III: Strife!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ the roof
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Puppet-related violence

###  Chapter 33: Act III: Strife!

##### Round 2

Bro points at you and then turns his thumb down. You respond with a green smuppet head and a hand slicing across your neck in obvious threat. You leap at each other, and the real fight begins.

He blocks every blow, sometimes without even looking, when he isn't dodging like a ninja. He gets behind you several times, and once leaves you swinging at an afterimage. 

He picks you up like you weigh nothing and sends you flying, only to get across the rooftop first and send you spinning in the other direction with an elbow.

Before you can land, he pulls out Lil Cal again and knocks you flying one more time. You crash through the door to the stairwell, and take a painful journey downward.

You can't help thinking about Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff.

_I warned you about stairs, bro!!!! I told you dog._

It keeps happening!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would rather watch than read about the action, round 2 can be found [here](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=00277)


	34. Act III: Study Map Data

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Skaianet Lab
>   * _When:_ Present
> 


###  Chapter 34: Act III: Study Map Data

You have the stray notion that it keeps happening, but you have no idea what “it” is. You don't have time to humor every random thought that pops into your head. The clock is ticking.

You take another look around the lab, finding a set of screens that look fairly important. Next to them is a pink tea set and a long pink scarf. 

It appears to be Skaianet's primary session terminal, monitoring a great number of Sburb sessions in the northeastern United States and parts of Canada. The main screen is over a dozen feet wide, and displays a map of the area, peppered with blue, green, yellow, and red dots of various sizes. There are numerous smaller screens around the perimeter of the big screen. Some contain lines of colored numbers, some contain white text, and the rest display circular designs. The one on the center left is clearly a globe, but you aren't certain what the one on the right like an eight-spoked wheel is. Upon further investigation you draw some logical conclusions. 

It looks like each session consists of an IP address and a physical location. The colored dots on the map appear to be meteor impact sites. It seems each session corresponds with a meteor, but not all meteors have sessions. 

Judging by the key near the top of the main screen, the color of the dot appears to indicate the status of the meteor's descent. The red dots indicate meteors that have already landed. Yellow dots are imminent collisions. Green will impact later, and blue will take the longest to touch down.

You use the panel in front of the screens to center on your present location (approximately (44, -74)) and zoom in. Surrounding the lab are of course the hundreds of smaller meteors that have been raining down steadily throughout the evening. Most of these meteor(ite)s have either landed already, or will shortly. 

Centered over the lab is a significantly larger imminent collision. You can't say precisely how imminent, but you could certainly take an educated stab at it. 

Just southwest of the lab, centered suspiciously near the location of your house, is an even larger looming collision. Though this one appears slightly less imminent, being more yellow-green in hue than yellow.

The terminal looks like it can monitor any meteor or session around the world. Search filters can be applied as well, restricting results based on size, time of impact, location, and so on. You zoom way out and narrow the search based on size. The two at the top of the list appear to be the biggest by far. You examine only their coordinates. 

The second biggest, a green circle, is centered over a U.S. city, likely in Texas. The biggest by a landslide is, luckily for the Earth you suppose, way out in the middle of the Pacific ocean. It is a blue circle roughly the size of Australia.

Well. That is… slightly disconcerting. There does not seem to be much you can do about it, however.

You should probably check on John, now that your laptop is functional. You plug the laptop into the hub again and turn it on. It is now powered and connected to the wireless signal the hub is broadcasting. Your Sburb session reconnects.

The first screen is of the living room, which is still populated by imps and yet more cruxite dowels. No sign of John here. You wonder why his house is shaking. 

Last time you saw him he was on one of the roof platforms. You will have to navigate via the Sburb interface to find him. You click on the up arrow, reaching the upstairs hallway where a lone imp stands. You zoom out, backing through the hole in the wall to the Alchemiter. You move left, to where an imp is hugging a tree branch beneath the pogo ride. You zoom in to John's room, two more imps. Then up to the sloping roof with the empty magic chest. Up again to the highest platform, where...

...oh, sweet Fluthlu, what is John doing? Hitting those ogres' feet with his pogo hammer is not likely to be effective. He is clearly in desperate need of your aid.


	35. Act III: Go BOING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At one point, I completely screwed up the html and Rose took over the chapter. If you spot something that looks wrong, please let me know!
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ your Roof
>   * _When:_ Several minutes earlier
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> reckless pogoing, books as weapons, cryptic advice

###  Chapter 35: Act III: Go _Boing_

You leap at the ogres with a wild yell, swinging the pogo hammer wildly. You are barely taller than the ogres' ankles, so all you can really attack are their feet. Still, you whale on them without mercy, the _boings_ loud and fast. If nothing else, you are being very annoying!

With a little help from the momentum of the pogo hammer, you jump up toward the ogre with the old _Colonel Sassacre_ , hoping to hit it in the face. Before you can deal any damage, though, the ogre swings the book and you take _Sassacre_ directly to the face. Your momentum is reversed, and you hit the ogre behind you back-first before landing at the feet of the first ogre. It hits you with the book again.

Before you can recover, the other ogre gets the tire swing around your middle and uses it to pick you up. First he bounces you off the ground a bunch of times. Then he swings the rope from the tire swing like a lasso, spinning you around his head. You are feeling very dizzy by the time the other ogre strikes you with _Colonel Sassacre_. You go flying through the air, off the roof, breathless and aching.

Nannasprite catches you with your bed in midair, then heals you with her eye lasers. You sit up and shake your head to catch your bearings. Then you jump back into battle.

You repeat your earlier strategy, getting a rhythm going until you can propel yourself at the _Sassacre_ ogre's face. You manage more than a few good hits on its head. Nannaquin helps you out with her super cool laser eyebeams, conveniently stopping the other ogre from interfering with the tire swing. While she is doing that, your refrigerator suddenly drops onto the ogre.

Huh. Guess Rose is back.

The ogre catches the refrigerator and swings it at you. It's hard to say whether _Colonel Sassacre_ or the refrigerator hurt more. This time your resulting flight his curtailed by the oven Nanna maneuvers with her eyes. You are only inside the dark oven for a moment before the door opens and you are hurtling downwards at the ogre. You make a very satisfying _BOING_ when you hit your target.

Nanna appears behind the ogre and drops a constant stream of appliances, bathtubs, and toilets on the ogre, wearing it down. You hastily get out of the way. You make another leap into the air. This time Rose positions the Alchemiter just right for you to launch yourself down, taking out the first ogre with one final blow.

One down, one to go.

Then Nanna sends a stream of cookies out of the oven. You guess it distracts the ogre, or something, because your jump at this ogre's face is successful. You beat at it for awhile, until you notice the Alchemiter hovering directly overhead. You jump to the side and let Rose kill the ogre with the large gizmo.

Your roof is practically covered in gushers, round blobs, and oil drops. A few of the chunks of grist are nearly as big as the Alchemiter! Hell yes!

You raise your pogo hammer in triumph. You also high five Nannaquin's disembodied hand, which you have left hanging long enough.

Your PDA alerts you to a message.

TT: Good work, John!  
EB: oh, hey!  
EB: you're back.  
TT: For now. I'll have to leave again shortly.  
TT: It looks like there's another large meteor headed for...  
TT: My present location.  
EB: oh, so you mean dave connected with you?  
TT: Not yet.  
TT: I'll explain later.  
TT: But I think I've determined that activating the timer in the game is not directly responsible for summoning a meteor to your location.  
TT: The countdown seems merely to exist as a kind of warning to the player.  
TT: As well as a strange coincidence.  
EB: um, ok.  
EB: i don't really think i get it.  
EB: is this relevant?  
TT: Probably not at the moment. And certainly not to you.  
TT: I have to go.  
EB: ok, later!  
TT: P.S. Try not to waste too much of that grist while I'm gone.

Speaking of, you should collect that phat lewtz. But first, you consider your personal advancement. You rocket seven levels up the echeladder to the dizzying heights of the vaunted Boy-Skylark rung!!! Your new green feather is hard earned and well deserved. And alarmingly fashionable. 

You and your ceramic porkhollow rejoice in the mound of wealth (11,575 boondollars) yielded from your meteoric ascent up the ladder.

You are still not sure what all these boondollars can actually get you. But when pulling in such insane loot hand over fist like this, who cares? Not you.

Time to pick up all the grist you can hold. Your expanded cache limit (2400) is more than enough to accommodate the grist windfall.

You gather up 2260 pieces of blue build grist, 1040 pieces of purple shale, 490 drops of black tar, and 350 drops of silver mercury. You can't wait to find out what amazing items this new supply of grist will be just barely insufficient to produce.

You carefully peek over the edge of the loft to the rest of the roof. Oh god, there's grist littered down on the lower levels too. Those stupid ogres were like huge grist pinatas. One of those big Sour Grape Electric Holocaust Fruit Gushers is jammed in the hole in the platform. You guess there's only one way to get it.

Before you can climb down the ladder, though, Nanna stops you. The ancient copy of _Colonel Sassacre_ floats next to her.

“John, don't forget your book!” Your nanna's voice is cheerful and lightly chiding. “It is your birthright! You ought to give it a read when you have a moment. Particularly the first several pages!”

You're not sure why the first several pages would be important, but your dad taught you some manners, at least. You're pretty sure sassing your nanna would not be ok. You dutifully captchalogue the ancient text. “Ok Nanna, I will.” You pause as an idea occurs to you. “Hey, Nanna?”

“Yes, dear?”

You put on your best puppy-dog face. “Since I am trying to get up to that gate, and since you can sort of conjure floating beds and throw me around and all... couldn't you just throw me up to the gate?” You give her a hopeful look.

“Yes, of course, John!” You grin, about to celebrate, when she continues, “But that would not serve your purpose well! There is a very good reason why you should build up to it. And then keep building!”

You slump, disappointed but not entirely surprised. She did raise your dad, after all, and he wouldn't have taken the shortcut, either. “Oh, ok, I guess that's what I figured.” You eye Nanna balefully. “So just one more thing... do you think that instead of telling me exactly why that is with a clear explanation, you can give me a series of really coy riddles about it and then sort of giggle?” 

“John, you are a very fresh young man! Your father has done such a wonderful job raising you. I am so proud of you both.” You've never had a mother, but you think her tone is definitely mom-like. As a newly minted teenager, you are somewhat uncomfortable with this topic of discussion. At least you can read your dad's fatherly notes of approval without him watching you! 

“Ha ha, I guess.” 

Of course, then she flips the mood by taking your previous suggestion a little too literally. In a mysterious voice, she tells you, “When you pass through the first gate, everything will change. You will find the place where the constellations dance beneath the clouds. And then your true work may begin. Hoo hoo hoo!” 

“I suddenly understand everything!” you say brightly. 

Nanna sort of giggles again and phases through the floor. She's probably going to go make more cookies. Is that what ghost grandmas actually do? You're not sure. Your nanna is really not at all like you would have guessed. 

Recalling her weird advice about those first couple pages and wondering about your birthright, you uncaptchalogue _Sassacre_. This copy of _Colonel Sassacre's_ is considerably scuffed and stained, but no less daunting. The original color of the cover is indistinguishable, and even some of the letters in the title are smudged out. 

You open the cover to sneak a peak at the text. Opposite the cover page, on what was a blank space above the publishing information, a note has been scribed. This certainly wasn't on your other copy! You can just barely decipher the faded handwriting. 

_ Dear John, _   
_You are no doubt reading this as a handsome and strapping young man! Why, the mangrit needed to lift the book is itself a sign of your maturity, not even to speak of the wisdom needed to grasp the nuance of Sassacre's time-tested mischief. I am so proud of you, grandson! _

_How I wish I could have delivered this heirloom to you in the flesh. But I am afraid it wasn't in the cards! For you see, John, like you, this book must yet take a journey! Its journey will end on the Final Day of my life, and even then will continue some. Though I suppose that will be up to your Father. Perhaps he will discuss it with you one day, when he and you are ready._

_But it is your journey I am writing about to wish you luck! There will come a day when you will be thrust into another world. And once you arrive, that is only the beginning! You will soon delve even deeper into a realm of Warring Royalty in a Timeless Expanse. A realm of Agents and Exiles and Consorts and Kernelsprites. Of toiling Underlings and slumbering Denizens. A realm where four will gather, the Heir of Breath and Seer of Light, the Knight of Time and Witch of Space, and together they will Ascend._

_John, if only you knew how important you were! I regret my passing came so early in your life. And yet I feel in my heart we have already met. But what I know for sure is that we will meet again!_

_Until then, John, I do hope your Father keeps you well fed!_

Beneath the publisher's note, the writer signed  
 _With love,_  
 _Nanna <3_

And off to the right, in the corner of the page, is an additional _PS. Hoo Hoo Hoo!_

You suddenly understand nothing.


	36. Act III: Get Frustrated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ ????
>   * _Where:_ Derse
>   * _When:_ A few minutes ago
> 


###  Chapter 36: Act III: Get Frustrated

Elsewhere, we find a place...

...where a kingdom is entrenched in an impenetrable veil of darkness.

The city is comprised of numerous baroque spires, sweeping staircases, and promenades. Everything is made of purple stone, except the black, impenetrably dark sky. Even the canals crisscrossing the vast city shimmer in purple hues. The buildings might be compared to the most elaborate churches in the world, if such things existed beyond the Furthest Ring.

You have received reports that a distinguished prisoner was taken when the Heir entered the Medium. You are currently watching events on a four-paneled screen in your office. While being escorted to a cell, he escapes the handcuffs (supposedly found hanging conveniently on a tree) and brandishes a cake and a can of shaving cream at his captors. The cake is dumped on one imp's head, while the shaving cream is waved in the air. Then the harmless businessman punches the imp wearing a wizard's hat clean through the wall and over the edge of a balcony outside.

This is most irritating.

You turn and face the opposite screen, which shows a boy in square glasses pumping his fist in the air next to an Alchemiter and a lot of grist. He has just defeated two ogres who attacked him in his transplanted home. You scowl.

_Graveyard stuffers_.


	37. Act III: Check Mail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ PM
>   * _Where:_ Post-apocalyptic Earth
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Teeny tiny cliffhanger?

###  Chapter 37: Act III: Check Mail

You are now the Peregrine Mendicant. 

You are flying westward in your peculiar mobile station. You have no sense of your bearings presently. The door is blocked by a metal column which extended through the entry shaft before liftoff. 

What will you do?

You check the mailboxes scattered at your feet. This message to Dr. Brinner in Maple Valley, WA, looks pretty serious. You could open it and find out...

_NEVER_. 

The mail is sacred, and sacred is the trust between the Post Man and the recipients of his precious parcels. You have made a solemn pledge to deliver this letter to the doctor, just as soon as you determine where this address is, or find any sort of discernible mailing address in this wasteland, for that matter. The mail is freedom. The mail is life. The mail is the very fabric of civiliz... 

Wait. 

Hold that thought for one moment...

From another mailbox you retrieve a worn blue hat with a gray brim in front. A yellow shape like a bird of prey has been stitched on the front.

Okay.

The mail is the one final hope for resurrecting a dead planet from its ashes, and the letter carriers are the brave soldiers of God in this righteous crusade. They are the defenders of the light of knowledge, free communication, and the exchange of ideas. They are the bold toters of all those little papery conduits of freedom, the white postmarked angels that whisper a message on their deliverance, a promise to the yearning: "There is hope yet." 

Liberty. Reason. Justice. Civility. Edification. Perfection. 

MAIL.

You return the mail to its box and turn your attention to the keyboard and screen against the wall. It's the terminal you used to activate the station's homing mechanism. It looks like it has now returned control to you. 

The default viewport, on the bottom right, displays commands previously entered, including your last and only command "=> HOME".

You type another one of the previously entered commands, “=> VIEW”. The screen switches to the view of a young girl standing alone somewhere, holding a rifle. There is a heavy amount of video interference of some sort. 

The girl seems familiar to you.

You being to type.  
`>Greetings.`  
`>Don't I know you?`

On screen, the girl seems to look at you. Does she shake her head slightly, or is it merely the increasing interference? Lightning crackles over the command terminal. You take a step back.

The bright flashing culminates in an explosion, blowing a hole in the side of the station.

Oh dear.


	38. Act III: Descend As Far As You Can Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Your house (just below your room)
>   * _When:_ Several hours ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Trolls ahead! Also, taxidermy and a reference to Dave's comic SBAHJ.

###  Chapter 38: Act III: Descend As Far As You Can Go

You've spent enough time for now concerning yourself with the future of your friends. 

Shaking off your contemplation, you transportalize as far down as you can go. This happens to be a room with the mounted heads of your grandpa's game on the walls. The gaping shark head is at just the right level to greet you when you arrive. The deer and bison heads behind you are the least ghastly of his trophies. You really dislike them.

The grand foyer is still a few floors down, but the transportalizer on that level is blocked by one of Grandpa's impressive big game trophies, and you just don't think he would cotton to someone moving it.

You proceed down the stairs to the next level. Granddad also likes to accumulate valiant knights from his travels. These are pretty cool, you guess. Several of the suits of armor are complete with weapons. There may or may not be a suit resembling Ironman in the corner. Orange light flickers through the doorways.

You continue down the stairs. Here the light is pink, and the collection now includes his stash of decrepit mummies. God you hate these things.

You can't stop there. The next level has replaced some of the animal heads on the walls with samples from your grandfather's collection of what he refers to as his beauties. No lovely lady will be fit for his collection unless her portrait has spent at least 20 years bleaching in the front window of a beauty parlor, a sort of establishment he's plundered no less frequently than ancient tombs. 

You guess they were sort of like your sisters while growing up, and you were always encouraged to look up to them. They are all awfully pretty ladies you suppose, but it was always hard to get as excited about them as grandpa. 

He used to say, "Jade, study hard and keep your rifle at the ready. When adventure summons, I know you will rise to the task and take your rightful place among the Daughters of Eclectica." 

That old coot sure is a bag of wind!

You finally reach the ground level. This is the stupid thing blocking the transportalizer. Its round white head is several times your size, and its round, open mouth is full of sharp teeth. Four feet below where its head meets its snake-like body, it abruptly becomes neon green. Its body comes through the doorway from another room, with only part of it sitting upright on the transportalizer. It is unspeakably hideous. You cannot bear to look at it.

Down the southeast hall is the grand foyer. You'll have to cross through it to leave the house.

Before you can leave the room, however, you receive an alert from your lunchtop. You retrieve it from your sylladex. Looks like someone's pestering you. Even though you thought you logged off... ?

You open your lunchtop to answer. You are not thrilled to see the gray text in your window.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling gardenGnostic [GG] at 13:04 

CG: HI AGAIN, IDIOT.   
GG: oh nooooooo   
CG: SO I GUESS TODAY IS FINALLY THE DAY YOU FUCK EVERYTHING UP.   
GG: >:O   
CG: IS THERE NOTHING I CAN DO TO CHANGE YOUR MIND?   
GG: you can leave me alone!!!!!   
GG: how can you even be talking to me after i blocked you....   
GG: AND after i logged out????   
CG: YOU DON'T GET THAT I AM BETTER AND SMARTER THAN YOU IN EVERY WAY, FOREVER.   
CG: YOU DON'T GET THAT BECAUSE YOU ARE INCREDIBLY STUPID.   
GG: i get that youre a jerk and you should shut up!   
GG: goodbye you jerk!!!!!!!!! 

gardenGnostic [GG] blocked carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 13:06

Some carefree scampering should get your mind off that frustrating conversation. From the doorway, your gaze rests briefly on the purple and yellow mantel, where candles burn eternally. In place atop a pedestal is a framed portrait. The subject looks exactly like you, with dark, untamed hair, round glasses, and slightly crooked teeth. However, she wears some sort of yellow shirt with a crescent moon on it, and you do not even own such a piece of clothing. Furthermore, this portrait has been in place for as long as you can remember, and this girl looks to be about thirteen.

You scamper your heart out and bump into something, knocking you off your feet. You don't know why he always insists on keeping it so dark in here. 

Oh look, it was one of his dumb globes. These things make it awfully difficult to navigate the foyer. We get it, granddad. You like to travel around the world going on adventures and stuff! 

Lousy goddamn stupid globes.

As you get back to your feet, you equip your rifle. Grandpa will surely have stern words for you if he catches you without your trusty rifle at the ready. That's just what you need, another one of his blustering mustachioed diatribes. You are rolling your eyes in advance, getting them warmed up. 

But ideally you can evade him altogether. All you have to do is get past the fireplace and out the front door, and you will be scot-free.

In front of the fireplace are two sofas facing each other. Sitting upon them are the manor's four distinguished houseguests. They like to gather here by the fireplace for tea time. As well as pretty much all other times. It's all very mannerly and civilized. 

You know exactly what's going to happen when you try to sneak by. The fireplace is going to light up and your grandpa's silhouette is going to appear in front of the fire to give you a good spook. He is so predictable.

You edge around the globe next to the couch on the purple side of the fireplace, your rifle at the ready.

[ ](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/sweetbroandhellajeff/?cid=006.jpg)

Sure enough, the silhouette of an old man wearing a safari helmet and holding the barrel of a large gun can be seen against the suddenly roaring flames. You suppose you could still manage to sneak by the crafty old man if you are fast enough. Avoiding an encounter would be ideal. 

Encounters with him are usually........ 

Intense.

You prepare yourself to leap dramatically across the divide. However, just as you take your first step out from the shelter of the globe, you are overcome by a sudden bout of sleepiness. You know what is about to happen.

Whoops. 

You guess an encounter with him is almost certain now. But most likely not for a while. Time to see what someone else is up to. 

Oh, let's say... Dave.


	39. Act III: Strife with Guardian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Temporal absurdity, taxidermy on unconventional subjects

###  Chapter 39: Act III: Strife With Guardian

You rev yourself up for the strife. Turntables are spinning.

*  
**  
***  
****  
*****  
******  
*******  
********  
*********  
**********  
*********  
********  
*******  
******  
*****  
****  
***  
**  
*

 

Aw snap. Psychout!

You snap awake only a moment after falling asleep. However, the damage has been done. Rifle in hand, you approach your preserved and mounted Grandpa Harley. 

You aggrieve. This involves firing many bullets from your rifle, sometimes jumping onto the couch or even onto your grandpa's head. You knock his hat off more than once. Alas, he remains unmoved from his platform.

You grit your teeth and glare up at his impassive whiskered face.

“YES i am going out with this gun!!! no i will not go get a bigger one!!! no i will not take yours! I can't even lift it!!!!!! oh that is so preposterous. do you even hear what youre saying? i will be fine! this is a perfectly deadly gun and it shoots lots of incredibly deadly bullets! oh will you just stop it. i am going now. Goodbye!!!!!!!!!!!!" 

<3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Your tirade complete, you abscond out the front door, still scowling. He was so much easier to deal with when he was alive.

Now that you have successfully made it outside, it's time to locate and feed the devilbeast you call a pet. Good luck finding him! If he wants to be found, he will find you. 

Becquerel has always managed to elude your prognosticative faculties. He is completely invisible to your intuition somehow, a property almost totally unique to him. It used to freak you out a little, but you have long since grown accustomed to it.

You set off at a brisk walk across the grassy hills, heading away from the volcano. You pause when a chill snakes down your spine and the sky seems to darken ominously.

HUH??? 

Oh, it was nothing. Nothing at all. There was no silhouette of a devilbeast on the horizon. Moving right along.

You should retrieve the expected package. The birthday package you were expecting from John arrived months late. And yet, right on time. It landed over there past the crumbling monument, a satellite to the great mystic ruins at the center of the crater lagoon.

You head eagerly for the package. The blue box is in sight!

Suddenly you are blocked by the white, canine, slightly sparking and flickering form of your pet. You draw your rifle.

You arraign, taking careful aim, but the bullet vanishes as it touches him.

You find a better vantage, and arsenalize… _BANG_. Bec turns into a portal filled with green fire, and you both go for a ride on your suddenly much bigger bullet (or maybe you're just much smaller; it's hard to tell sometimes). You are dumped back on the grass on the other side of the crater lagoon unharmed.

You artillerate. The vastness of space is contained in your pet. You feel as if you are traveling at warp speed, approaching your galaxy and then your planet from afar. You arrive back on top of the stone frog statue on top of your island's ruins.

You armamentify, flashing through distant scenes too quickly to really make them out. A tire swing? A bed with a fluffy pink comforter? There might have been flames and scorching heat for a moment. Then, you're back next to the package again.

Time to try another tactic. Arf. You aim away from your pet instead. “Go fetch!”

When you fire, Bec teleports away to chase after the bullet. You use this moment of distraction to scoop up your package. When he brings your bullet back, you give him his irradiated steak.

Good dog! Best friend! You give him a hug.

Then you abruptly fall asleep next to the ruins. Bec knows the trick of getting you onto his back to carry you back to your room. When you wake up, you will be tucked into bed.


	40. Act III: Experiment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Skaianet Lab
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Absurdity, irresponsible genetic engineering (henceforth "ectobiology"), dead pet

###  Chapter 40: Act III: Experiment

After the strife, you pester John, congratulating him on his victory and informing him of what you have learned about the meteors. Then you sign off. There is 1:43 left on the timer hanging on the wall.

You successfully disregard the absurd tea set next to the control panel because it's stupid and shouldn't be in a place like this. You probe further into the lab. It looks like a little girl's room. There is a pink bed with a hearts and pawprints bedspread and plush wizards and kitties. Next to it is a dresser vanity combo. This all strikes you as a bit odd. 

No time for messing around in here though.

Ok, maybe you'll do a _little_ messing around. You eye the scarf on the floor. You are only human after aAUGH WHAT'S THAT?

Startled by eyes peeking out of the teapot, you jump onto the safety of the bed. You are accosted by a friendly mutant kitten with four eyes. You should probably refuse to acknowledge the absurd kitten. 

You fail miserably. Instead, you scoop him up into your arms and carry him around with you.

Oh look, there's some more mad science crap over here, on the other side of the absurd bedroom.

First there is a weird arcade gizmo, adapted to a setup that obviously doesn't take coins anymore, assuming it ever did. This is fortunate, since you left all your coins on the fridge. You would hate to be stymied in your thorough perusal of this laboratory by something as banal as material poverty.

You set down the kitten so you can pull over a convenient little pink chair and climb up so you can see. The screen shows the same fractal of triangles you saw on the round platform where Jaspers disappeared. This doesn't appear to be a game. It appears to be an appearifier, and according to the screen, it is ready.

You mess with the controls and a picture appears on the... Hey, Jaspers is alive!!! 

Or, at least he was in the past. According to the time-stamp this was almost nine years ago. 

You try to move the crosshairs with the joystick, but it seems to be permanently locked on a specific target, as indicated by the lock shape on the white cat head in the corner. You might be able to unlock it, but you clearly don't have much time to horse around with this thing.

You zoom out to show more of the room on screen. It looks like you and Jaspers were having one of your sessions. Jaspers, dressed in a suit, is sitting on the sofa, while your four-year-old self holds a tiny notebook on a fancy armchair. You weren't making a lot of progress though, because Jaspers was no doubt being characteristically recalcitrant. You possibly jotted this phrase down in your pad. It's hard to remember though. 

Wait... 

Could this be _that_ day??

You attempt to appearify Jaspers. This would surely cause a time paradox, because you can plainly see that he has not told you his secret yet. But it seems the machine has a safety mechanism to prevent such irresponsible appearification practices. The screen turns blue with the word “paradoxify” in the center.

To your left, on the attached platform bearing the fractal symbol, the paradox ghost imprint of Jaspers appearifies instead, and quickly settles into a mound of green sludge. The big machine beside it sucks up the paradox sludge and begins some kind of automated procedure. You can see the sludge in a little windowed compartment. Above the compartment is a screen, where it seems whatever sort of primordial biochemical properties the sludge possesses is being evaluated by the device.

Feeling a tug on your scarf, you look away. The mutant kitten is happily rolling on the end of your scarf. When you look back, the DNA code has stabilized.

The device generates a fetal paradox clone of Jaspers in the tube on top of the machine. The wretched creature exhibits a number of unfortunate mutations though, such as having two heads at opposite ends of its too-small body. The good news is that it will be mercifully unestablished along with this facility shortly. This is also the bad news. 

Whoever was operating this machine in the past may have been making unsuccessful attempts to perfect the science of ectobiology.

You turn back to the first device, contemplating having an expository flashback to further elaborate on _that_ day. Oh wait, it seems that there is no need for a flashback. Conveniently, you can watch what happened right here on the monitor. You roll the clock forward a few seconds. Jaspers has joined you on the armchair, and he reveals his stunning secret to you in strict confidence by whispering it in your ear. Your young eyes widen in shock.

Before you could ask him to clarify, he vanishes into thin air. You now believe you understand why, if the nebulous “-IFY” sound effect that accompanied the disappearance is any indication. 

However, you were not the one to appearify him from this moment. Your hand was nowhere near the controls just now. 

A couple weeks after he vanished, his body washed up along the riverbank. His suit was a mess. Your mother fitted him with a new one just before the absurd funeral service she insisted upon.

In an attempt to answer a nine year old question, you roll the clock forward to a week after he vanished. It seems there is no accessible feed tracing his whereabouts during that timeframe. All you get is static.

You fast forward another week. There he is, just as you found him on the shore. You hit fast forward.

You watch as your younger self arrives and discovers her dead cat. Jaspers is installed in his coffin, and covered with a lavish bouquet for his funeral. Over time, the bouquet disappears. Years later, you appear on screen and kick the coffin off its slab. You watch the events of the past few minutes, as you descend into the escape tunnel and drop Jaspers on the platform in the middle of the lab. The surroundings shift, showing an identical platform on a fancy tiled floor.

 _It's Jaspers. He's alive._

Well ok, he's still dead. But his body is intact. Turns out it wasn't some kind of disintegratificator like you thought. 

It's more like... 

An _escapilizer_.

You appearify Jaspers immediately. Easy. Good thing you finally got all this sorted out. You only have 10 seconds to spare. 

Time to stash the dead cat and amscray. You make a mad dash for the transportalizer at the center of the room. It is a pretty decent escapalization, if you do say so yourself.


	41. Act III: Miraculously Survive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ PM
>   * _Where:_ Mobile Station
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Short chapter is short.

###  Chapter 41: Act III: Miraculously Survive

You were knocked off your feet by the sudden explosion. Your wrapping may be a little more scuffed, and possibly a little bit on fire, but you retained your important headgear.

You peer out the hole made by the explosion. The rocky terrain below is partially obscured by the drifting smoke. Perhaps that is why you seem to see a disembodied arm hanging in the air. You are more concerned with the three mailboxes dropping toward the ground.

To your surprise, a metal worm like the one you beheaded earlier extends from your left, aiming toward the mailboxes. It catches one of them in its mouth and then bends to lift it back to you. You can see the letter still safely inside.

You stretch out your arms beseechingly. For the first time in a long time, something has made your task easier. You think you are in love.


	42. Act III: Venture Into the Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your house (roof, above Dad's room)
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Slightly hysterical reaction?

###  Chapter 42: Act III: Venture Into the Unknown

You have collected all the spoils, except for the piece of wedged shale. You know you should grab this thing, but...

You are suddenly feeling apprehensive about entering your father's room. With all the scamperin' around it almost slipped your mind how much you hate his hideous clowns. You can only imagine how many of the things he will have in his room.

No use putting it off any longer. There is only one thing left to do. 

Give me a 'D'. 

Give me an 'E'. 

Give me an 'S'. 

Give me a 'C'...

You jump, nabbing the 50 shale and dropping through the hole as it disappears. You triple somersault into the room and stick the landing on the bed. You are now in your dad's room. 

Hmm... Where are all the clowns? 

You spot your dad's briefcase beside you. It probably contains all sorts of clues, or at least various forms and paperwork critical to his trade as a hilarious street performer. There is an iron to your right, and several pairs of shoes against the wall under the window.

You snoop in his briefcase. Aw yeah, here come the secrets. Get ready for some _major_ revela... 

Wait a minute. These are just boring business documents and spreadsheets. What the hell is going on here???

You take a look around. Picture of some douchebag on the wall. Normal hats on the hatstand. Ties hanging on the wall behind you. A print of a pipe on the other side of the door. A picture of you propped up on the dresser in the corner. A box of Betty Crocker cake mix under the pipe picture and several wrapped presents in the other corner.

It's kind of a boring room. Your father is apparently just a businessman. In the most shocking twist yet, he doesn't seem to be all that into clowns.

Your mind is blown.

You curl into a fetal position on your dad's bed and just rock back and forth to calm yourself.

Several minutes later, you sit up and think seriously about these revelations. So all those years, while you believed he was out busking up the corners with hilarious antics, he was working as an ordinary business man all along. He was just a man trying to make a good honest living for his son. Maybe he was too embarrassed to tell you the truth? Or maybe it was just that you'd never bothered to ask? 

You guess you always just assumed...


	43. Act III: Deal with Harmless Businessman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ ????
>   * _Where:_ Derse
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Anger issues, unpleasant workplace environment

###  Chapter 43: Act III: Deal with Harmless Businessman

Your underlings eventually corralled the distinguished prisoner into a jail cell, but keeping him there is an undertaking of surprising difficulty.

The human prisoner has broken out of his jail cell yet again. Attempts to block the cell door with heavy objects have proven futile. The man is currently holding a hefty safe above his head and menacing the nearest guard with it. The pipe in his mouth does not even tremble with the effort.

The human heaves the safe at the imp. Both go flying through the wall. You don't care where they land beneath the tower.

You're going to need a bigger safe.

You turn away from the screen, scowling. You will handle this situation, if your name isn't...

...Spades Slick?

Got a nice ring to it. But you know your own name. And that damn well ain't your name.

You are Archagent Jack Noir. You oversee various affairs of a dark kingdom. Presently you are determining how to deal with this prisoner, who has been a thorn in your side since he was apprehended. 

You view the affairs of the kingdom through a series of fenestrated walls. You have three walls, nearly enough to form a Cubicle Of Vigilance, which is a full and proper enclosure for an agent of your stature. 

However, much to your utter contempt, your fourth wall was stolen some time ago.

Next to you is a red, purple, and green jester's hat, which you are supposed to be wearing. This frivolous headdress turns your stomach. You'd sooner stick your head in a furnace than coax it into this monstrosity's loathsome colorful maw. You give it a kick.

It's bad enough that your exalted ruler ordered everyone to drape themselves in these hideous rags the moment the troublesome human with the pipe and his child showed up. The only redeeming feature of the colorful ensemble is the small black spade on your side.

But you draw the line at the hat.

You order one of your burliest agents, heart under his arm notwithstanding, to the scene. He brings something heavier this time. It looks like a circular vault door.

Before he reaches the jail cell, your transmission is interrupted by a pointing black finger wearing a ring with four stones.

It seems your glorious monarch has concerns over your wardrobe. She points toward the hideous headgear.

_Fine._

You begrudgingly don the comical hat, sticking your tongue out as you do so. Stupid lousy wise and just leader. What a royal pain in the ass.

You fully intend to throw down your hat in disgust once your superior stops breathing down your neck for a second. 

Wait... 

What now?

On the screen, the escaped prisoner has your burly minion in a headlock, and is _whomping_ him in the face. Your minion's stupid party hat has fallen to the floor. Several imps watch in horror.

Your blood is boiling so hot you could cook an egg on your carapace. 

Looks like you'll have to go handle this yourself.


	44. Act III: Open Presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your House (Dad's room)
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Disappointing presents, mental breakdown

###  Chapter 44: Act III: Open Presents

You turn your attention to several items of interest. It seems there are some unopened birthday presents which Dad didn't get around to giving you yet.

It is totally present time!

The one on the right seems promising. 

You open it to see what is inside and oh god yes. A fetch modus control deck! You tear into this thing and put a mean peep on the sw33tloot. The control deck has several slots for cartridges, and resembles and old school video game system.

In addition to the modus control deck, you got a bonus “array” fetch modus. Plus another 12 cards, which are practically worthless by this point, but hey you'll take 'em. First thing you do is flush the extra cards into your deck. 

Ok really this is just way too many cards.

Then you equip the blue array fetch modus card, which allows you to store and retrieve any item from any card at any time. It seems exceptionally serviceable, albeit difficult to weaponize. 

BOOOOOOOORING.

You could maybe read the instructions for the control deck, but there's nothing to read, really. You just pop some modus cartridges in the slots, fire it up, and see what happens. You start by putting the stack and queue modi in the slots. Your sylladex now behaves like both a stack and a queue. Items can be removed from either the top card or the bottom card.

You see no reason at all not to jam the array cartridge in there too. You make sure to blow the dust out first of course. 

The sylladex reconfigures itself into an array of four distinct queuestacks. Now we're talking. This is just the sort of needless complexity you have come to expect from your inventory management system.

Done messing around with your sylladex, you turn back to your two remaining presents. You have a staunch policy of always saving the biggest present for last. _Always_.

You open the smallest present and receive a box of delicious fruit gushers. Could this birthday get any better? You don't think so.

You open the big present, and immediately don the enclosed suit. You thought wrong. The suit is nothing fancy, but you feel very grown up and ready for anything while wearing it.

Presents opened, you decide to fill an entire queuestack full'a shoes. Ok, awesome. Better grab those gushers, too.

A shoe hits you in the forehead. Dang! You spaced out and put it in the wrong queuestack. Don't worry, you'll get the hang of this thing.

You retrieve the box of gushers so you can recaptchalogue it correctly. You inspect the front closely. The box tells you they are “made with real fruit” and an “excellent source of vitamin C.” The flavor is Massive Tropical Brain Hemorrhage. So delicious. You can't wait to captchalogue one of these packs and make like a million gushers. Screw all this building nonsense! You'd rather make candy. 

Wait a minute...

You adjust your glasses and peer more closely at the corner of the box, where there is a red spoon. _Betty Crocker_.

It... It can't be...

THE HEINOUS BATTERWITCH HAS HER GNARLED CLAWS IN EVERYTHING. 

What do Gushers have to do with baked goods anyway?? How does this make sense??? Why???? 

 

_WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY???????????_

 

For the second time in ten minutes, you have a mental breakdown.

Gushers...all your favorite flavors...all that wonderful sugar...the product of Betty Crocker...

This is stupid. Time to be someone else.


	45. Act III: Check for Mixed Atoms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter notes:
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ The other side of the escapalizer
>   * _When:_ Present
> 


###  Chapter 45: Act III: Check for Mixed Atoms

Upon arrival after your escape, you check yourself over. Nope, no mixed atoms. Looks like you and the kitty kept your genes to yourselves. Your new kitty whose name is... 

You'll think of one later. 

Hey where the heck are you anyway? You look around.

Oh, you're back home. The well-stocked bar and the vantage from the window tells you this is your mom's room. Or at least what you thought was her room. You don't see a bed. You decide not to be especially melodramatic about this revelation.

You glance out the window at the laboratory, surrounding by a raging inferno. Huh, that's funny. Shouldn't that place be unestablished by now? The downpour of smaller meteors has stopped...

A nanosecond later, a large meteor strikes the lab. You dodge back as the concussive blast breaks the window. Better get out of here. This room is a powder-keg with all this booze lying around. You take the kitten into your arms for safekeeping and run for the door.


	46. Act III: Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Your bedroom
>   * _When:_ A few hours ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Hand-wavey science

###  Chapter 46: Act III: Dream

As you are sleeping, tucked into bed, the red orbs on top of your bedposts start to flash. Down the stairs, next to the final transportalizer, is a metal cabinet as tall as a person. The door of this cabinet has an atom design on it, and the top has four similar red orbs sitting atop cones.

The door pops off, revealing a very special robot. She looks like you, though made of metal, of course. The other major difference is that her eyes are large red circles, not matching your green eyes. She ascends to your room, standing next to your bed.

You are now dreaming. Your dreambot is awake and active.

In your dream, you are standing in your room. The walls and many of the items are decidedly pink. Your bed is yellow. As always, you wear a yellow nightgown with a crescent moon on the front.

Your first act is to obliquely foreshadow the future through interpretive dance. You wave your arms in the air vaguely and tilt your head from side to side. Your silly dance foreshadows nothing and is essentially meaningless. But it sure is a lot of fun.

You are pretty tired, and should get some rest. You climb into bed and try to get comfortable. But some sort of invisible force is pressing down on you, a strange feeling of cold heavy metal. 

This happens every time you try to get into bed! No wonder you can never get any sleep.

You realize it would be pretty cool to go flying. There is not much to realize. Of course you can fly. You hover near your window.

You stop all this flying around nonsense and examine John's birthday package. You have access to most things in both the dream and waking worlds. Unfortunately you cannot open it yet! This package has an important journey to make first. You are planning on delivering it momentarily. 

Good thing you already know what's inside. Otherwise you would surely be consumed by curiosity and suspense. You sincerely pity anyone who might be forced to endure such a fate.


	47. Act III: Send Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ Months in the past
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> This one is pretty much all pesterlog

###  Chapter 47: Act III: Send Present

_Months in the past… Enough for a white landscape to be seasonably reconcilable…_

Outside, snow is piled on your roof, the lawn, and even your dad's car. Inside, the December page of your calendar has been marked with three smiley faces wearing birthday hats: green on the 1st, red on the 3rd, and fuchsia on the 4th. Shreds of blue wrapping paper still litter the floor. Scotch tape and scissors are sitting on your desk next to your computer.

You are feeling proud of yourself, and share this pride with your friend through Pesterchum.

\-- ghostyTrickster [GT] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] -- 

GT: hey, happy birthday jade!    
GG: yay thank you john!!!!! :D    
GT: whew ok, i got your present in the mail JUST on time.    
GT: plus i sent rose's and dave's too.    
GT: why do your guys'es birthdays got to be all bunched together like that??? you are running me ragged!    
GG: heheh i know but it is nice of you to think of us all like that!    
GT: i can't wait for you to see what i got you. i don't want to spoil it or anything but hopefully it will help you solve those problems you've been having lately.    
GT: MYSTERIOUS WINK ;)    
GG: im sure it is great, i cant wait either!!!!!    
GG: it might take a while to get here from there but it will be worth the wait!    
GT: oh man.    
GT: i am such an idiot, i forgot about how long it takes you to get stuff.    
GT: ARGH.    
GG: john thats ok really! im sure will get to me exactly when it needs to and it will be a nice surprise when it does!    
GT: ok well i hope so.    
GG: <3......    
GG: uhhhh hold on    
GG: ok im back sorry    
GG: i had to tell someone to go away!    
GT: oh god.    
GT: the trolls again?    
GG: yup :o    
GT: they have been such a pain in the ass lately.    
GT: it seems like there are so many.    
GT: there are either like fifty of these retards or it's one guy with a lot of alt accounts.    
GG: ive never had any sort of feeling about them or what they want which is kind of weird!!!    
GG: but it seems to me like they are probably all different people and not one guy    
GG: i have counted twelve    
GT: what do they want with us!!!    
GG: some people just like to needle others for some reason john    
GG: it is like a game i guess. they are like pranksters!!    
GT: oh hell no, shittiest pranksters ever.    
GG: but i think they are mostly harmless    
GG: every so often they manage to get through my block filter and hassle me. its been going on for years! actually some of them are kind of funny i think hehe    
GT: oh wow, what? years??    
GT: ok, well i am sick of them.    
GT: i've been thinking of changing my pesterchum handle to throw them off the trail.    
GT: so...    
GT: i guess i'm gonna do that.


	48. Act III: Descend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ WV
>   * _Where:_ Your mobile station, outside temple ruins
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Adorable overload

###  Chapter 48: Act III: Descend

Eventually, you shake off the overwhelming awe at the amphibious temple. You would like to be on the ground. But you cannot descend from the top of your mobile station. The loose cable you gather up and tie together is not yet long enough to allow you to reach the ground safely. 

You have used all the cable you can find. You will have to come up with another plan. It might be possible if you sacrifice your mayoral sash for more cable...

No way! ABSOLUTELY NOT WHAT ARE YOU CRAZY 

A MAYOR DOES NOT RELINQUISH HIS MAYORAL SASH UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES EVER PERIOD

You cannot shake your head vehemently enough to convey your disapproval of that idea!

You might be able to use the appearifier inside to solve this problem. Appearifying the temple would be such a dumb idea. Not as dumb as using your sash, but it comes close. That temple is way too big. You'd probably just end up appearifying a chunk of useless boring rock.

You and Serenity ponder your options some more. As she flies a bit higher into the sky, you track her flight. Wait, what's that? 

There's something dangling from the top of one of the towers near the temple. Something resembling a rope or cable. Perhaps Serenity could help you retrieve it?

She is a tiny insect and cannot possibly lift more than the weight of a pumpkin seed!!! 

She does however inform you of what the ledge contains through a series of informative blinks. There is an old rusty harpoon lodged into the crumbling rock. Tied to it is a bunched-up jumble of handy cable. This strikes you as convenient! It is almost as if someone knew you would need a bunch of cable, and that you would have a mayoral sash made out of cable, and that you were particularly attached to that mayoral sash and would stubbornly refuse to use it. 

Anyone who knew that much would surely possess a special gift! Alas it seems a bit far fetched.

The important information gathered, you climb back down the shaft to the appearifier room. The heat and the exertion has made you thirsty. You take a hasty swig from one of your delicious pawns and carelessly put it down on the green house button. 

You then quickly adjust the coordinates to appearify the jumble of handy cable.

You wait with bated breath as...a blue box appears? Uh...

Oh, of course. The time wasn't set to the present moment. Somehow it got reset to a few hundred years ago. It is some sort of present from the past... in the present. Attached is an envelope, addressed “to Mister Mayor” in delicious green ink. There is even a stick drawing of you, and a heart. It looks extremely important.

You open the envelope. Inside is a letter and another envelope. 

This is all highly confusing and you do not know what to make of it. Still it is obviously critical mayoral business which you take very seriously and you will defend this package with your life. You set it aside for now, and return to the appearifier controls.

You set the time to the present, and appearify the jumble of cable. You immediately follow the obvious course of action, returning topside to tie all the cable together and carefully lower your precious pumpkin bindle. You then rappel down the station with the package, which must not leave your side.


	49. Act III: Observe Intruder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ ??
>   * _Where:_ Inside the amphibious temple
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Short chapter is short, new character

###  Chapter 49: Act III: Observe Intruder

_Years in the future...which is to say, the present moment precisely…_

You peer through your scope at a vagabond propelling down the side of a recently arrived mobile station. He wears a slapdash spear across his back and is carrying a blue package. You can see him perfectly from the window of the illegal temple you have been investigating.

Furthermore, there is something glittering in the air over the intruder's shoulder. You peer closer, and determine that it is yet another mobile station, this one held aloft by rotating blades. Smoke drifts from a hole in the side of the sphere.

The yellow caution tape you are wrapped in crinkles softly as you change your position.

As an Aimless Renegade, you know how to prepare for company.


	50. Act III: Get Down to Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your house
>   * _When:_ Present
> 


###  Chapter 50: Act III: Get Down to Business

Suddenly you are feeling very businessmanlike for some reason. 

You just punched a shitload of cards in anticipation of making a whole lot of cool stuff. This time you didn't foolishly destroy any items. You just looked at the codes for some objects you rounded up, and punched them on blank cards. 

You wonder how much alchemizing you can get away with before Rose gets back? As if she's got any right to tell you what to do with your hard earned grist. You're the one running around here putting your ass on the line. All she's got to do is mess around with her computer! 

Anyway, you better hurry.

You take your stack of cards up to your room. For a moment you have to just stop and stare. You shudder at the recent handiwork of some mischievous imps. Your posters have been decorated with clown accents and insulting words. Every actor has been marked with bright green, pale purple, and red. Your beloved Nick Cage from _Con Air_ is now wearing a purple ruffled clown collar and a harlequin hat. Across his torso is written "FOOL." You cannot bear to look at it anymore. 

You just can't turn your back on those imps for a second! 

Rotten imps. Those posters were like children to you.


	51. Act III: Psychoanalyze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your bedroom
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Amateur psychoanalysis, dubious pet names

###  Chapter 51: Act III: Psychoanalyze

At long last, you have returned to your bedroom with a stable power supply and internet connection. The room is lit with an orange glow due to the flames outside your window.

Vodka Mutini purrs at your side, happily curled up on your desk. You _suppose_ you will call it Mutie for short. It is a rather diminutive kitten.

You reopen your Sburb session. You find John in his room. There are quite a number of totems in the corner where his bed used to be.

TT: That's quite a totem collection.   
TT: What are you planning?   
EB: oh whoa hi!   
EB: oh...   
EB: gonna make some stuff.   
EB: are you ok? hasn't your house been on fire for like...   
EB: five hours now?   
TT: No, that was the nearby forest, which up until quite recently would have been best described as "on fire".   
TT: But you may be excited to learn that just as recently, my house finally notched that achievement.   
EB: wow, congrats i guess?   
TT: Thank you. Have you seen Dave?   
EB: nah.   
EB: his bro is probably busy kicking his ass.   
EB: that's probably all there is to say on the matter.   
TT: Ok.   
TT: I'm going to start putting this grist to use too.   
TT: Let's be sparing with the frivolous knickknack breeding and focus on getting you up to the gate, ok?   
EB: yeah, ok i hear you, but...   
EB: i think we'll have plenty. i've been killing imps all over the house and now its lousy with gushers.   
TT: Gushers?   
EB: i mean grist.   
EB: serves them right for ruining my posters. the bastards.   
TT: Which posters?   
EB: don't you see? my sweet movie posters. look at them, they're fucking ruined. 

You take another look, but the posters do not look any different than they did the first time you saw John's room several hours ago.

TT: John.   
EB: ??????   
TT: Are you suggesting that imps are responsible for defacing your movie posters?   
EB: uh, YEAH?   
TT: Your posters have looked like that ever since I first saw your room.   
TT: The moment we started playing this game.   
TT: I thought you had defaced them ironically to mock your father's interests.   
TT: John?   
TT: ...?   
EB: VERY FUNNY ROSE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

You observe that he seems to be shouting at the screen as he types. He really is very excitable.

EB: NICE JOKE   
EB: GREAT JOKE THERE ROSE   
EB: TOP OF THE LINE PRANK   
EB: HE HE   
EB: HA HA HA HA HA   
TT: This is good.   
TT: Laughter is probably the best way to avoid being especially melodramatic about the revelation.   
EB: yes   
EB: YES   
EB: LET'S KEEP THIS JOKE GOING   
EB: BECAUSE IT IS SUCH A GOOD ONE   
EB: HA HA HA HA   
EB: OH MY   
EB: HA HA HA HA HA HA   
EB: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

You allow him get his hysterics out, and start putting all that hard-earned grist to use. Time is at a premium here. You successfully build two more levels of lofts before John calms down sufficiently to return to work. He brings his totems up to the loft where you left the Alchemiter after the battle with the ogres.

EB: ok, while i make some stuff here can you keep an eye out for imps?   
EB: just keep the safe or tub handy or something.   
EB: it'll serve them right for trashing my posters.   
TT: I keep telling you the posters were always like that.   
EB: AND I KEEP TELLING YOU HA HA VERY FUNNY   
TT: Here, look.   
TT: <http://tinyurl.com/O413nanna>  
TT: <http://tinyurl.com/O413weirdo>   
EB: yeah, i saw those, but...   
EB: they didn't look like that before. you must have changed them.   
TT: Even if I had the motive for such a bizarre and pointless deception, where would I find the time?   
TT: I don't even have Photoshop.   
EB: then why didn't you TELL me they were there???   
TT: I had no reason to think you were not aware of them.   
TT: I thought they were strange, certainly, but was not struck by any particular impulse to discuss them.   
EB: ok, it still doesn't make sense though.   
EB: implying that i drew them a while ago and then forgot and couldn't see them and now suddenly see them.   
EB: that's stupid, what would that even mean.

You smirk to yourself and decide to share the most likely theory.

TT: It looks like you were in your father's room recently.   
EB: yeah.   
TT: And how did it make you feel to discover what was in there?   
EB: oh no, i just realized!   
EB: you are going to psycho-therapify me.   
EB: well don't bother!   
TT: Maybe I am just being a friend?   
EB: maybe...   
EB: /EYES SUSPSICIOSLY   
EB: anyway i guess you saw what's in there, it's boring and there's not much to even see.   
TT: That doesn't matter.   
TT: What matters is how seeing it affected you.   
TT: I think it clearly has in some way.   
EB: well...   
EB: i don't know, at first i was nervous to go in and find more of his weird clowns, because of course they are stupid and i hate them a lot.   
EB: but then when i didn't see any, it was weird.   
EB: i felt weirdly, like... disappointed almost.   
TT: Is it fair to say this changed your perception of your father?   
EB: yeah, i guess.   
TT: Is it such a stretch to conclude it changed your perception of other things as well?   
EB: uh no, maybe not.   
EB: but what are you getting at?   
EB: it sounds like you're saying i'm crazy!

You glance at the screen, where John has just alchemized a purple wizard hat with attached rabbit ears. Clearly, John is a perfectly normal, well-rounded individual without any issues whatsoever.

TT: I don't like to use the word "crazy".   
EB: oh god.   
EB: see?? this is therapy bullshit!   
TT: That was a joke.   
TT: But anyway, whether it means you are crazy or not, consider this theory:   
TT: Your presumably longstanding tendency for scrawling this imagery is really your subconsious trying to express something disturbing within you.   
TT: Possibly something from your past, which you have blocked out.   
TT: And since you have supressed it, your conscious self cannot acknowledge the drawings, therefore they have been invisible until now.   
EB: why now?   
TT: Perhaps because you have seen evidence that conflicts with the worldview your subconscious has constructed to obfuscate the truth.   
TT: That your dad is not necessarily the clown-loving maniac you thought he was.   
TT: All along, this negative attribute buried in your psyche may have been projected on to him, and subsequently reviled, as a sort of defense mechanism.   
EB: but this is absurd, my dad LOVES these shitty clowns.   
EB: he's got all these statues and paintings EVERYWHERE.   
TT: Is it unthinkable that over the years it was he who believed you were the one with a passion for clowns? Because of the all the strange drawings in your room?   
TT: A father then embraces a son's hobby to establish a stronger bond.   
TT: Or wages a campaign of passive-aggresive mockery of your interests.   
TT: Either is plausible. I don't know your dad that well.   
EB: i dunno.   
EB: not sure about all this.   
EB: but i think we need to stop and acknowledge the bunny sassacre fedora i just made.   
TT: It's awesome.   
EB: yeah.

As he puts on the fedora, he glances up and around at the chimneys all around him. You do have to admit, your construction does not look terribly elegant.

EB: wow, what are you doing by the way?   
EB: rose, sorry to say but this is all looking kind of silly!   
TT: I'm trying to spread the upward construction around so there is a more substantial foundation for later on.   
TT: But I'm starting to wonder if it will be strong enough.   
TT: It's kind of starting to wobble a little.   
TT: I don't think brick chimneys were meant to serve this architectural purpose.   
EB: yeah no shit!   
TT: I might have to adopt a different building strategy.   
TT: Stick to more load-bearing walls, and blockier shapes, especially since grist has been easier to come by lately. 

And judging by the horde of imps and ogres gathering at the base of John's house, that will not be changing any time soon.

EB: ok, but you really must be running low on time by now, right?   
TT: Right.   
EB: STRIIIIIIDEEEERRRRRRRR!!!!!


	52. Act III: Explore Golden City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word of advice: don't forget to close your span tags. This chapter took twice as long to code as it should have. If you see any mistakes, please let me know.
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Your bed/your bedroom on Prospit
>   * _When:_ A few hours ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Dreams melding with reality

###  Chapter 52: Act III: Explore Golden City

When dreaming, you have so many choices, and so many things to do.

You decide to dream up extra arms and play an advanced bass solo. This is one of your favorite things to do when you are dreaming. Your dreambot has been outfitted with extra appendages as well, so Bec and your conservatory can benefit from your musical whimsy. You think your acquaintances on Prospit enjoy it, too.

After your solo, you change your wardrobifier to cycle through star, heart, and horseshoe. These choices come to you as many things in your dreams do, and you have learned to do what they tell you. You leave the moon in the cycle though 'cause you like it. Then you fly through the window to explore the golden city. In the waking world, you know your dreambot is doing the same, though she has only the volcano and grass to look at.

Your bedroom is inside a sphere atop a golden tower. Your tower and the neighboring one just like it are the tallest buildings on Prospit's moon. You have a wonderful view of the golden spires, walkways, and stairways below. You spot several white carapacians looking up at you.

You drift closer to the massive chain that connects the moon to Prospit, seeking a new friend. You pause and blink when you notice a tall white female in blue and green and tan. You can tell by her bag that she is a parcel mistress. Is she familiar?

You decide to check on your neighbor. The tower is very much the same as your own! The only difference is that this one is home to a young boy instead of a young girl. 

You peer through the window. The light blue walls have been drawn on with clown faces. A one-armed black doll in a clown outfit sits on the bed against the wall. John is of course sound asleep. It looks like he is having troubled dreams as usual. 

You cannot disturb his slumber though. He will wake up when he is ready!

Speaking of John, you wonder if he got the birthday present you sent him? Or for that matter, if you even remembered to send it? 

Darn! You get so confused sometimes. If only you had some system in place to help you remember things.

You leave John's room. In front of you is a vast blue expanse covered with clouds. Your moon is getting very close to Skaia. You had better go inside soon. It is never a very good idea to be outside during the eclipse. 

Maybe you can take the opportunity to log onto your computer and ask John about his present. You just know he will think it is awesome, and it will be a great way to thank him for the wonderful present he got you!

You return to your room to set up your computer so that your dreambot can do the same. Your room has rotated as close to Skaia as it ever gets. The clouds drift by just outside. You have only to glance out the window to see the images they hold. Some show stars in the night sky. One shows you John standing on a balcony next to a gizmo with a blue apple in his hand. You smile at the Squiddle-shaped cloud next to it.

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 13:25 -- 

GG: john did you get my package??  
EB: oh hey!  
EB: no, not yet.  
GG: darn! are you sure? it was in a green box.....

The cloud outside your window shows a house, you think John's, on a plateau above gray clouds. The sky around it is dark. The next cloud shows a sprawling mansion surrounded by a burning forest, which suddenly is covered in snow. 

EB: oh!  
EB: yes, but it is in my dad's car and he is still out at the store.  
EB: he should be back soon.  
GG: great!!! so what are you up to today?

Then a smoking crater in the ground, which reverts into a suburban neighborhood. Another cloud shows a scorching red sky over the roofs of a city. 

EB: i am up to my neck in this sburb stuff.  
EB: TT is making a royal mess of my house.  
GG: lol!  
GG: whats sburb??

You are a little thrown by what looks like your volcano, but lacking your lagoon or any green at all. The vision keeps vacillating with what it looks like now. 

EB: oh, it is this game.  
EB: it's ok i guess. i'm still figuring it out.

Another cloud showing stars, but this one has a strange green portal open inside it. The portal ejects a meteor cloud, which strikes next to the volcano. Your tower shakes with the force of the strike.

GG: whoa what was that?????  
EB: what was what?

Are those...white ears and a canine nose rising from the lava filling the crater? It couldn't be Bec, could it? 

GG: there was a loud noise outside my house!!  
GG: it sounded like an explosion!!!!  
EB: wow, really?  
GG: i will go outside and look....  
EB: oh man, alright but be careful, ok?  
GG: i will! :)

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] -- 

You leave your laptop to investigate, flying out your window. There is a swirling pool of lava below. You are thwarted by Bec, who blocks your path every time you try to go around him. You think there is something like a glowing flower in center, though, where the ruined temple will someday stand. 

Unable to distract your guardian devilbeast, you reluctantly return to your tower. 

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] -- 

GG: im back!  
EB: oh hi!  
GG: i went to investigate the explosion i heard  
EB: was it by any chance a meteor?  
GG: yes!!!!!  
GG: how did you know??  
EB: oh man, it's kind of a long story!  
EB: anyway, are you ok? did it blow up your yard or start a fire or anything?  
GG: no i am fine!  
GG: it landed a pretty good ways from my house and i went to look at it  
GG: and its pretty big!  
GG: but bec doesnt want me to go near it  
GG: so i came home  
GG: he seems to think its dangerous!  
EB: well gosh, he's probably right!  
GG: anyway what have you been up to john?

Wasn't there something you wanted to ask him? Oh, right! 

GG: oh!!!! did you get my package yet? :O  
EB: er…  
EB: yeah, i was trying to get it, but rose dropped my car into a weird spooky bottomless pit and the package was in the car and im really sorry about that.  
GG: oh no!  
EB: wow, ok, i guess i should start at the beginning.  
EB: see, a meteor blew up my neighborhood.  
GG: thats terrible john! im so sorry!  
EB: but i'm ok! and my house is too, sort of.  
EB: that game i was telling you about, sburb which i was playing with rose, sort of transported me somewhere at the last minute.  
EB: but now i'm trapped here and it's weird and dark and i can't find my dad and i just lost the car and my copy of the game in the pit and i think i have to save the world from the apocalypse!!!  
GG: O_O  
GG: well.....  
GG: it sounds really crazy and kind of scary but.....  
GG: it also sounds kind of exciting!  
GG: i dont know john maybe this is your destiny  
GG: if anyone can save the world i think it is probably you!  
EB: wow, you think so?  
GG: yes!  
EB: well ok, BUT.  
EB: it's not even that simple!  
EB: i was about to connect to rose to help transport her and save her from meteors and fire and stuff.  
EB: but she lost battery power and i lost the game disc!  
EB: so i think i have to get TG to use his copy to save her!  
EB: but that jackass won't shut up and stop rapping and stuff.  
GG: hahaha  
GG: he is so silly!  
EB: yeah. anyway i should talk to him about it, so brb.

You notice John's dream self leaving his tower. You approach, but it looks like he might still be sleeping! His eyes are shut tight. You wait while he starts to open his eyes, just watching clouds float past you. Just as you are about to lock gazes, you both wake up. 

You feel alert after your nap. You are not surprised to be in your bed. You have John on your mind for some reason. You think you will check on him. 

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] -- 

GG: hey!!!!  
EB: whoa, there you are!  
GG: how is your adventure going john?  
EB: it's ok, i am making some progress, and rose finally connected again so she is helping me now.  
GG: thats good!!  
EB: oh but, like...  
EB: i don't think i am actually saving the world here. :(  
EB: i dunno what i'm really accomplishing but i guess it's not that.  
GG: hmm well i think whatever it is it must be pretty important!  
GG: dont lose hope john i think it will all turn out for the best if you stay positive....  
GG: just keep listening to your grandmothers advice!!!  
EB: yeah, you're probably right.  
EB: but, um...  
EB: i don't think i mentioned nanna to you, did i?  
GG: oh uhhh....... 

Darn, it is so hard to remember how you know the things you know!

GG: i dont know didnt you???  
EB: hmm, i dunno, maybe you talked rose or dave about it or something.  
GG: yeah maybe that was it!!  
EB: they're really weird when they talk to me about you, like they're always trying convince me you have some spooky powers, but i'm always like no she seems like a pretty regular girl to me!  
GG: heheheh :D 

One of the things you love best about John is his unconditional acceptance toward his friends. 

EB: but then when i think back maybe there are times when it seems like you know some things?  
EB: like maybe you know more about a thing than you are telling me? i dunno.  
GG: oh well john  
GG: i want to explain lots of things to you….  
GG: some things that i know  
GG: im just......  
GG: waiting! 

You are really glad your waiting is almost over. It feels like it's been forever. 

While you are waiting for John's response, you briefly scroll back up to see what you were talking about. Oh, the meteor that...obviously has not actually just fallen outside. You hope John wasn't too worried about that. 

EB: waiting for what!  
GG: oh! john!!!  
GG: i forgot i was messaging you about that meteor that fell near my house!  
EB: oh yeah.  
EB: what ever happened with that?  
GG: oh boy.... well........  
GG: it turns out i was confused about it...  
GG: really confused! o_o;  
GG: see i guess i fell asleep for a while and..... 

...started typing while dreaming. But you don't want to explain that to John. Dave thinks its really weird. 

GG: lost track of time  
GG: that happens!!  
EB: yeah i know, tell me about it!  
EB: maybe you should like, wear an alarm clock or something.  
EB: so what was the deal with the meteor?  
GG: well.....  
GG: its hard to explain!!!  
GG: but...  
GG: i know what it is now!  
GG: and now i know everythings going to be ok!!!  
EB: so what is it???  
EB: or is this just another thing you're "waiting" to tell me???  
GG: oh gosh john i really want to tell you all this stuff!!!  
GG: but i cant yet  
GG: i really think you need to wake up first!  
EB: huh?  
GG: well ok not literally  
GG: well ok maybe KINDA literally!!  
EB: AUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
EB: stop being so confusing!!!!  
GG: lol :)  
GG: anyway time for you to go john  
GG: i think you have some company!!!  
GG: <3

You take a moment to gather your thoughts after your dream. While you are asleep it can get very confusing figuring out what is really happening and what isn't. Especially during the eclipse, when you are exposed to many visions of the past, present, and future through a variety of cloud mirages. It is only after you wake up that you are able to start making sense of it all, and your reminders help you do this! 

But on reflection, there wasn't much in the dream about the future. You were quite surprised to see your dog in your dream though. It was the first time the crafty guardian has ever appeared in a dream! You have learned that today is his birthday, just like it is for your other best friend. You have always wondered about this, and never had the chance to throw him a party and bake him a cake. Now you can! 

But if you do, it seems that you will need a lot of candles. 

You glance out your window at the peaceful lagoon. Colorful lilies surround an ancient temple where a frog squats. Bec has never allowed you to enter the mystic ruins for reasons you never understood. You always assumed it was on account of your protection. But your dream has strongly suggested to you that is where you need to go now! 

Since your dreambot is secured in its chamber and does not need to be looked after, Bec is taking a nap in the grand foyer as he usually does. Perhaps you can take advantage of this and sneak out of the house another way? 

You recall the harpoon gun leaning against the wall. 

Oh yes, of course! One of your reminders reminds you that you still have a package to deliver too. This way you can kill two birds with one harpoon gun. 

You bring the loaded gun over to your window and take careful aim at the orb on a pillar rising from the water hundreds of feet away. 

_Pchooo!_

Perfect shot! You zip-line into the great outdoors. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter can be viewed as an animation [here](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=002973).


	53. Act III: Touch the Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ WV
>   * _Where:_ Next to your mobile station, near the ruined temple
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 


###  Chapter 53: Act III: Touch the Ground

You safely reach the ground with your mayoral sash and package intact. 

You cannot resist temptation of the green. You nibble on the envelope. Will you cut that out! You have company.

You turn around. Over there! A round mobile station has landed, and a white figure wrapped in gray and wearing an official-looking blue hat is looking around.

You glance down at your letter. It is actually mostly a drawing, matching the current scene. There is a pillar tower thing to the left, in front of some hills. On the right there is a big round thing with a house on the side and a stick with four petal things on top. A little stick figure stands in front, with the words “go here!” pointing to her.

Beneath this drawing is another. A drawing of you is holding out a box to a drawing of the newcomer, surrounded by hearts. Above the drawing it says “give present! Hooray!” Under the drawing is another note, “oh please do this, the freedom of your people depends on it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3 your friend :D”

Well, it seems pretty clear. You look at the newcomer. Her hand reaches for a black sword at her waist. Neither of you is aware of the rifle being aimed from above.

_Brakkabrakkabrakka_

You have to dance in place to avoid the sudden spurt of bullets striking around you. You make for the cover of a large boulder. You are very relieved to make it there. The shots change to target the newcomer. She hurries to join you, and sits with her back against the boulder.

You steal a sideways peek at her. She has set down the sword. You slowly scoot closer. You offer her the present with the attached letter to “miss mail lady.”


	54. Act III: Alchemize with a Montage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your house (balcony)
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> More than you needed to know about set theory, unlikely alchemy

###  Chapter 54: Act III: Alchemize with a Montage

You are super excited to find out what your totems make. You even rambled about punch card alchemy for Rose's walkthrough a bit ago, and you want to see if your theories are right.

It would be pretty cool if you could alchemize in a 1980's time lapse montage. It would promote the appearance to the audience that a whole lot was getting done in not much time, but it also sounds like kind of a pain in the ass so you decide to play it straightup this time. 

Rose has moved the Alchemiter back down to the deck while she reworks the building project up there. Just as well because it will save you a lot of legwork. Between this thing, the Designix and the Lathe, that's a whole lot of scrambling around!

This time instead of overlapping (&&) the two cards which created the pogo hammer, you use the two codes to double-punch (||) a blank card, producing a different hole pattern. The result is the hammerhead pogo ride. It doesn't look like it's as much fun as the original ride, but to be fair it's probably a lot safer. 

Double-punching cards creates patterns with more holes, rather than less holes by overlapping cards. This strikes you as a viable method for combining more than two items without whittling down to too few holes, or too many! Just mix up the overlaps and double-punches, and the sky's the limit.

You combine the ghost shirt and your suit, to make the green slime ghost suit. A Slimer patch sits on your chest, and your tie is green. You put it on immediately. Pretty swanky, but you are not completely satisfied with the wardrobe upgrade yet.

Next you combine your ghost suit and the _Wise Guy_ book. This costs a little more, but the Wise Guy slime suit is teal. This is so much better. It seems there are lots of secret trickstery gimmicks concealed in OH SHIT THERE GO THE CARDS, shooting out of your sleeves.

PDA && your glasses = serious business goggles. This is a pretty nice hands-free communication solution, and it makes you look way cooler, like one of the kids from _Spy Kids_ or something. God that was a good movie. Real spies...only smaller.

Your sledgehammer || _Colonel Sassacre_ text  && your telescope (and 250 shale, 10 tar, and 50 mercury) yields the telescopic sassacrusher. The brown and green square hammerhead is taller than you are. This thing could probably pound an ogre into crudeburger. Of course you have no hope of lifting it whatsoever.

You mix your Gushers with some of the blue slime Nanna left on the wall to make a box of HELLACIOUS BLUE PHLEGM ANEURYSM GUSHERS (with ghostly healing properties!) These should be convenient, if somewhat unappetizing.

Fake arm && ectoplasm || PDA makes the remote ghost gauntlet. It looks like when you put on the special computer-glove it lets you control the big slimy ghost hand. The ghost gauntlet appears to have a considerably higher lift capacity than your own puny arms. The telescopic sassacrusher just became a viable weapon.

You use a mirror to complete the pair of gauntlets. Because you don't see why the hell not.

You combine an umbrella and a straight razor to make the barber's best friend. Rather than protecting one from the rain, all the ribs are super sharp. It suddenly seems worthwhile to you to go nab that umbrellakind strife specibus that's been lying in the study for a while.

Gushers && shaving cream = a deadly Betty Crocker Barbasol bomb. It is the size of a soccer ball and marked with wide black and white stripes. Be careful with that thing! Jesus!!

Ok, you have a cool idea for something to do with your _Ghost Dad_ poster, but it looks like you drew shit all over that one too without realizing it. Lousy goddamn stupid subconscious! 

Anyway, you think you have an idea how to clean it up. You captchalogue and punch the Heath Ledger Joker figurine. If you can somehow "subtract" the code of the Joker figurine from the code of the poster, it might work. 

Luckily, the Joker code only has two holes, making the task very simple. The defaced Cosby poster shares those holes. You determine that the defaced Cosby could only result from a double-punching with the Joker, if your theory is correct. This means the original Cosby poster had one of those holes punched, or the other, or neither, making three total possibilities. 

You try out all three possible codes, yielding:

  * 1 potted plant 
  * 1 painting of a horse attacking a football player 
  * 1 clean Cosby poster 



Success.

Now you can combine the Cosby poster with your computer. You make the Cosbytop computer. This thing is probably a useless piece of shit, but making it has caused you to feel an alarming sense of satisfaction.

Dad's hat && Problem Sleuth game = an ordinary fedora with four pieces of candy corn inside. You think that's pretty sweet.

Hammer && Problem Sleuth game = something you cannot make yet. It requires a ludicrous amount of grist (over 300,000), some types of which you have not even encountered. You'll have to try again later.

Pogo hammer || clothes iron = the wrinklefucker. An iron sits on either side of the hammerhead. The handle is bright green. Aw, yissssssss.

So much sweet loot. You'd almost think it was simultaneously your birthday, _and_ Christmas or something. Of course you know that is ridiculous and could never conceivably happen. (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Hussie originally posted this page right around Christmas, and all the events in the story so far have taken place on John's birthday.
> 
> Also, a fan made [ this punchcard calculator](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/scraps2/captchas.swf) to play around with.


	55. Act III: Strife With Your Guardian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Roof
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Dave's language, puppet death

###  Chapter 55: Act III: Strife With Your Guardian (final round)

You race back up the stairs and approach your bro. Now you mean business. 

You hold your sword in the guard position. With crows dancing in the background, and a soundtrack on your turntables running through your mind, you charge at Bro. Lil Cal falls through the air just as you slash with all your strength. You meet Bro's downward blow, and your cheap piece of shit sword breaks. 

He pulls his blow before he can cut your skin, but not before the record on your t-shirt scratches. You fall, tumbling across the roof to land on your back. The driving music in your head stops as your breath whooshes out of you. The pieces of your sword and of Lil Cal land around you. 

Bro drops his beta copies on your chest and jets on his rocket board. Asshole doesn't even bother to say anything.

You pull your phone out of your sylladex. With one hand, you send a message.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] -- 

TG: bro just kicked my ass  
TG: thats really all there is to say on the matter

After a few minutes to catch your breath, you get to your feet. If you lay here much longer, the crows flocking around you might start to think you are carrion. 

Lil Cal is in a bad way. His head has separated from his body, and all four limbs are scattered. Fluff everywhere. 

See you little dude. 

If you had any more apple juice you would pour some out for your homie. 

You'll have to remember to double-check your closet for more juice.

Maybe you will go get a god damn new sword. But if you do, it looks like you'll have to break it first. When you pick up the pieces of your old one, you see that it has become 1/2bladekind.

Perfectly good strife specibus, down the toilet. Thanks Bro.

You try to grab the beta (6) but you forgot your sylladex is completely packed. Card 6 is your nunchucks. 

You wonder why you jammed all this useless crap in here in the first place. Maybe you assumed you would weaponize it all during one of your customary hashrap battles with your bro. But in retrospect that probably just would have been a huge chore and would have made the battle drag on forever. 

It's like what are you made of time.

Since you don't need any of this stuff after all, now would be a good time to change the hash function. You dump all this crap all over the roof. Your hand shoots out to grab your phone before it shatters. Everything else can land wherever.

You then set your modus to the Scrabble hash function for some reason. This function always makes it a little less intuitive to calculate hash values for items, and therefore more cumbersome to rap with. But you guess that's kind of a moot point now that your bro flew off fuck knows where. His mysterious ways transcend irony once again.

You get the beta (3+1+1+1), now yielding a radically different hash value with the Scrabble function. Which is to say a radically exactly the same value.

Mission fucking accomplished.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] -- 

TG: ok i got it   
TG: i hope you appreciate how much gross spongy proboscis i had to fellate to get this game   
TG: hello   
TG: what are you doing   
TG: anyway im going down stairs now and installing this thing   
TG: later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The video of the final round is [here](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=002970)


	56. Act III: Finish Building

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it turns out writing a thesis is not conducive to churning out semi-weekly chapters. Sorry about that.
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your bedroom
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Psychoanalysis, flashback, speciesist language

###  Chapter 56: Act III: Finish Building

After several minutes of frantic work, you sit back and take a look at the fruits of your labors. All the chimneys, with the exception of the original, have been done away with. With John's dutiful collection of grist, you have been able to utilize load-bearing walls, stairs of an appropriate width, and even doors and windows. There are a few balconies and staircases wrapping around the outside of the house, but not so many that John will complain unduly. The overall effect is that of three or four modest homes stacked on top of one another. The resulting structure is sturdy enough not to tremble overmuch under the weight of no less than seven ogres.

You have achieved architectural perfection.

John is currently standing on the Alchemiter, surrounded by the outcome of his spree. It is debatable which of you spent more grist in the last few minutes, though you are certain you spent yours more productively. 

You idly ponder whether he will try out the massive hammer or the deadly umbrella on the ogre currently climbing onto the balcony.

You have finally finished your building project. You have done about all you can do for John. You don't think you can provide much assistance against all those ogres this time, but at least now John appears to be armed to the teeth. 

All there is left to do is wait for Dave.

You push away from your desk and climb up on your bed to peer out your window. As you contemplate the inferno raging outside, you find yourself pondering heavy topics. Such is your distraction, or perhaps the roar from outside, that you do not hear the alert from your computer.

You consider your friends. 

It would be nice to captchalogue and send John the code for his present. You would not like him to be cheated by your imminent demise. That would certainly hasten the parcel's delivery, but the gift is not finished yet! 

You have spent months accelerating your knitting skills to be able to make the gift of perfect sentimental appeal. You even incorporated a cherished heirloom you have had as long as you can remember. 

When he sees your staggering gesture of sentimentality he will finally understand. He will understand that in the game of facetious sentimental gestures, no one gets the best of Rose Lalonde.

You can still recall your amusement when you opened his gift months ago and read the accompanying letter. The tentacle creature in the corner even made you smile.

dear rose, 

happy birthday!!! 

thanks for being such a great friend all these years. i know you like to make it out like you're playing it cool and don't care much about the people in your life, but i know deep down you really do. hell, not even that deep down. it's like, um, like your subconscious is having a wet t-shirt contest, and you being all aloof is this totally soggy shirt doing no good at all at hiding nothin'. oh wait, it looks like two can play at this game of cracking all these high falutin psychology books! AW SNAP!!! 

but yeah, i got you this because i think you're really creative and you could make something nice with it if you put your mind to it. and it might help you take your mind off a lot of all this serious business you're always absorbed in. you know, all this weirdo pseudo-gothy stuff or whatever. frankly it's kind of depressing. 

anyway you're the best rose! have a rad 13th! (i will catch up with you guys soon. god you're all so old.) 

~ghostyTrickster    
(john)

You were not at all touched by the gesture. Not in the least. You merely took it as the thrown gauntlet it was obviously meant as. John's attempts at psychoanalysis, while naïve and inelegant, indicated a level of consideration in your interests that was admittedly gratifying. You were certain he was merely guessing at your commitment to creativity, for you have never even alluded to your writing pursuits.

You finger the lavender yarn delicately as you consider the proper response to make. Could you even become proficient in the craft soon enough to create a gift with the proper ironic sentiment? 

Of course, then you were trolled in a most amusing way. 

\-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] \-- 

GA: Why Is It That When The Subject Of Temporal Mechanics Is Broached Your Sparing Human Intellects Instantly Assume The Most Ingratiating Posture Of Surrender Imaginable 

You blinked, regarding the consistently capitalized words with some bemusement. After corresponding with John and Dave, you had almost forgotten what proper conventions look like. However, this was not it.

GA: Time Is Not That Difficult To Understand    
GA: It Is A Utility That A Universe May Resort To In Order To Advance A Desired Degree Of Complexity    
GA: Or May Not Resort To If That Is The Case    
GA: Its All Pretty Pedestrian    
GA: But No    
GA: When Time Travel Comes Up You Present The Face That A Man Shows When The Breeze Gradually Alerts Him To His Absence Of Netherdressings 

Was this person...actually insinuating that you were incapable of comprehending the point? Perhaps it would have been clearer if the conversation had not seemed to begin in the middle, but you understood the gist.

GA: I Dont See How We Are To Properly Agitate You All If You Continue To Insist On Failing To Understand Basic Concepts Which Common Infants Effortlessly Manage To Describe Via Scrawlings In Their Own Puddles Of Sloppy Discharge    
TT: Have we spoken before?    
GA: Yes    
GA: In The Future 

You sighed. So much for an entertaining alternative to the recent trolling to which you and your cohorts have been subjected.

TT: You and your friends never cease to invent ways to strengthen the credibility of your assertions.    
GA: Oh My It Is Your Human Sarcasm Again    
GA: I Enjoy Listening To It And I Wish Doing So Could Serve As My Primary Form Of Recreation    
GA: There See I Just Did It Too    
GA: Saying The Opposite Thing To Emphasize My Contempt    
GA: But Suddenly I Feel More Primitive And Hate Myself A Little More    
GA: It Was Like This Funny Miracle That Just Happened In My Heart    
TT: I would admire the sophistication of you and your fellow future-dwellers a little more if you seemed to be aware the word "human" only functions as that sort of adjective in bad science fiction.    
TT: But I won't be rude and change the subject.    
TT: There's a still a bit of unflagellated straw poking out of your rhetorical effigy over here.    
GA: Oh Dear    
GA: No We Arent From "The Future"    
GA: But We Are All Already In Agreement That You Dont Get It And Never Will    
TT: I thought you said we spoke in the future.    
GA: We Did    
GA: Your Future    
GA: For Me It Was Only A Couple Minutes Ago    
TT: I understand.    
TT: You exist in some temporal stratum through which you have communication access to various points of my timeline.    
TT: It's not that complicated.    
GA: Yes Thats Right 

You experienced a brief moment of smug satisfaction. Earning such a concession from a troll was worth any fleeting irritation you might have experienced. 

GA: Will You Try To Talk Some Sense Into Your Idiot Friends    
GA: So That We May Proceed To Bother Them All On More Rational Terms    
TT: I try to every day, with mixed results.    
TT: But you see, it's not that I don't understand you.    
TT: It's just that I don't believe you.    
TT: Because it's nonsense.    
TT: Albeit persistent and coordinated nonsense.    
TT: Why would a bunch of temporally dislocated trolls want to harass a group of friends throughout completely random points in time?    
GA: I Will Admit This Campaign Of Provocation Wasnt All That Well Thought Out    
GA: Dont Tell Anyone I Said That    
TT: Alright.    
TT: Maybe you should get some trolling tips from us humans.    
TT: Our sparing intellects are probably better suited to it.    
GA: Yeah Maybe    
GA: Why Dont We Be Friends    
TT: You want to be my friend?    
GA: I Think So    
GA: I Think Were Supposed To    
GA: You Suggested As Much Earlier    
TT: You mean I did in the future?    
GA: Yes A Couple Minutes Ago    
TT: Probably because I remembered you mentioning it in the conversation we're having now?    
GA: Thats Likely    
TT: Hmm.    
TT: Your commitment to this roleplaying scenario is intriguing.    
TT: What choice do I have but to accept?

As the conversation ended, you remember glancing at the box on the edge of your desk, and accepting that implicit challenge as well.


	57. Act III: Troll the Troll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ Months in the past
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Dave rapping

###  Chapter 57: Act III: Troll the Troll

Though you do not know it, a similar blue box sits in a similar position at a similar time. You have already taken the aviator shades and letter out of the box. Outside it is a gray, rainy day. You're still wearing the triangular shades you got from your brother anyway.

  dear dave, 

   happy birthday!!! 

   i just wanted to take a break from telling you how much your gay butt stinks all the time and say what an awesome friend you are. seriously, on any other day i would be downplaying how you aren't really as cool as you think you are, but just between you and me i think you might actually be that cool. i think you just gotta get out of your bro's shadow and spread your wings dude!!! 

   so i got you these. they're totally authentic! they actually touched ben stiller's weird, sort of gaunt face at some point. i'm sure you'll dig them because i know you lolled so hard at that movie. ok so for real, this is sort of a shitty present, but it is an ironic present because i know you wouldn't have it any other way. maybe you can wear them ironically some time. they MIGHT even be more ironic than you and your bro's dumb pointy anime shades. 

   anyway, have a good one buddy! and stay busy being totally sweet! 

   ~ghostyTrickster   
  (john)

John is but a beginner in the ways of irony...but it was a nice effort.

You are already wearing the shades by the time you finish the letter. Ironically.

You do not react to suddenly being trolled. You got this.

\-- adiosToreador [AT] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] -- 

AT: hEYYY,   
AT: fIRST, oK, i THINK YOU'RE AWFUL,   
AT: lET'S PUT THAT FACT ON THE TABLE WHERE WE CAN BOTH SEE IT,   
AT: nOW YOU HAVE BEEN PRIMED FOR THE DIGESTIVE RUINATION THAT'S ABOUT TO TAKE PLACE, aND THE COMPREHENSIVE SOILING OF THE LAUNDRY ENVELOPING YOUR PERSON,   
TG: oh my god you type like a tool   
AT: yEAHHH,   
AT: nOW YOU'RE GETTING IT, wHAT YOU ARE IN FOR,   
AT: aRE YOU READY TO BE TROLLLLLED,   
AT: wITHIN AN INCH OF YOUR MISERABLE HUMAN CORTEX,   
TG: this is so weak im almost getting tired of wasting good material on you guys   
TG: its like   
TG: youve got nothing   
TG: its always one of you sprouting up and ranting about how hard im about to get trolled   
TG: with no ensuing substance   
TG: you dont even know anything about us   
TG: one of you fuckers thought i was a girl   
AT: oK, yEAH, bUT,   
AT: tHE THING IS, tHAT i DON'T CARE,   
AT: aBOUT YOUR ANATOMICAL DETAILS, aND THINGS LIKE THAT,   
AT: i KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE,   
AT: oR WILL DO, aCTUALLY,   
AT: iT'S THE MOST AWFUL THING, tHE WORST YOU CAN EVER DO,   
TG: sorry i wouldnt cyber with you dude   
TG: in the future or whatever   
AT: wHAT, wAIT,   
AT: oH,   
AT: oK, yOU'RE THE ONE WHO LIKES TO SUBMIT INNUENDO,   
TG: human innuendo   
AT: yES, hUMAN iNNUENDO,   
AT: sORRY FOR THE LACK OF CLARITY,   
TG: so at what point in the future am i supposed to look forward to you whipping up this titanic hankerin for my knob   
AT: uH,   
TG: be honest with me   
TG: cause im busy   
TG: and i want to know exactly when i got to clear some space in my calendar for when some fuckwit blunders out of a magical phone booth and makes a ballad-inspiring play for my throbbing beef truncheon   
AT: sHOULD i BE PERTURBED BY THESE ALLUSIONS,   
TG: no man   
TG: look   
TG: i just need to know when to be there   
TG: when the stars come into alignment and your flux capacitor lets you finally sate your meteoric greed for crotch-dachshund   
TG: i wouldnt want to miss it and cause a paradox or something   
TG: itd suck if the universe blew up on account of you missing your window of opportunity to help yourself to a pubescent boy's naked spam porpoise   
AT: uHHH,   
AT: oK, THIS IS SORT OF STARTING TO UPSET ME,   
TG: jesus you are such a shitty troll   
AT: i GUESS i'LL LEAVE YOU ALONE,   
AT: aND FIND ANOTHER POINT IN TIME TO BOTHER YOU,   
AT: wHEN, i GUESS,   
AT: yOU ARE MORE EMOTIONALLY SUSCEPTIBLE, aND DON'T HAVE ALL THESE BEES IN YOUR BONNET,   
AT: aBOUT YOUR HUMAN SEXUALITY,   
TG: oh no   
TG: no dude   
TG: you sassed me up   
TG: we are in THE SHIT now   
TG: together   
TG: for the long haul   
AT: i,   
AT: wHAT,   
TG: we're motherfuckin entrenched in this bitch   
TG: you and me   
TG: welcome to nam   
TG: now grab my hand and shimmy your soggy ass off that muddy bank before charlie gets the fuckin drop   
AT: uHHH, wHO,   
AT: wHO'S CHARLIE,   
TG: hes the guy whos gonna read our vows   
TG: im feeling pretty friggin MATRIMONIAL all a sudden   
TG: take a look down by your foot see that little bottle   
TG: stomp on that shit like its on fire   
TG: noisy ethnic dudes are flipping the fuck out and waving us around on chairs til someone gets hurt   
TG: im your 300 pound matronly freight-train   
TG: and my gaping furnace is hungry for coal so get goddamn shoveling   
AT: oH MY GOD,   
TG: bro look in my eyes   
TG: that twinkle   
TG: that be DEVOTION you herniated pro wrestlers sweaty purple taint   
TG: sparklin like a visit from your fairy fuckin godmother   
TG: shit be PURE AND TRUE   
TG: thats what you see   
TG: a kaleidoscopic supernova of all your hopes and dreams all swishin together   
TG: radially effevescing arms of more little boy peckers than you can imagine   
TG: turning out insane corkscrew haymakers of a billion dancing vienna sausages strong   
TG: this is how we do this   
TG: this shits more real than kraft mayo 

\-- adiosToreador [AT] blocked turntechGodhead [TG] –

And that's how it's done.


	58. Act III: Get Ammo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ AR
>   * _Where:_ Illicit temple
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 


###  Chapter 58: Act III: Get Ammo

You are now...the Aimless Renegade. You have identified a couple of unwelcome rogues outside your present stronghold. They are in violation of your jurisdiction. Despite your ordinarily striking marksmanship, you have spent your entire ammo clip without recording a single killshot. 

What will you do?

You realize that your weapon is magazine-fed, not clip-fed. You don't give a shit about that. Either way, you are out of bullets. You toss the gun to the ground.

You turn and examine the wall behind you. The wall exhibits rows of ancient hieroglyphs depicting an array of amphibious and reptilian life forms, interspersed with the occasional lily or circular design.

This is illegal pictography. It makes you angry. You turn sharply toward the interior of the ruins. You have no time for distractions.

You need more ammo.

There is plenty of ammunition stored in the various ammo crates which you have spent a great deal of time unearthing from nearby dunes and hauling back to your stronghold. You have a large variety of weaponry and ammunition at your disposal. Whether you can locate some more AK47 rounds quickly enough is a different matter.

You retrieve a pair of deadly side arms from a pull-out section of the largest crate. The pistols are serviceable, but you will need a longer-ranged weapon if you are to continue your enforcement.

A rocket launcher would be ideal.

You drop the side arms and briefly consider the green crates on the undulating platform. No, not there.

Here's one, sitting atop a crate only as big as you are. A blue safari helmet and a moustache with buck teeth are clearly stenciled on the side.

You pick up the rocket launcher and balance it expertly on your shoulder. You wonder if you should reconsider your grievance with the offenders. Perhaps you should let it slide? They seem friendly enough, and it's been so long since you've had company. It would also be quite a pity to blow up that tall attractive female. 

But then again...

They are both in flagrant violation, trespassing through several zones which you painstakingly marked as off-limits while you conduct your investigation of this crime scene. It is your duty to investigate this illegal monument and get to the bottom of its illicit amphibious idolatry. Just thinking about all the sloppy footprints they are leaving in the sand makes your carapace steam. 

The law is all that's left to hold on to in this unforgiving dust bowl. You cannot afford to loosen your black claw's grip lest justice slip through your fingers. Law is beauty. Order is peace. Judgment is the very basis for all that is pure and... 

Hold that thought. 

You need to take a moment to wear something ridiculous before you continue your spiel... You pick up a string of grenades and drape it over your head like a wig. An empty canister with a shaft through it will serve as a gavel. You take a crate and painstakingly write “Judge” on the side. A smaller red and gray box becomes the jury-box. You stand bullets up in rows to form the audience.

ORDER IN THE COURT. YOU WILL HAVE ORDER IN THIS COURTROOM. IF EVERYONE DOES NOT SETTLE DOWN YOU WILL CLEAR OUT THIS COURTROOM, YOU SWEAR TO GOD.

Order restored, you go examine the moving platform. It appears to be a large stage serving as a kind of elevator. But it can't go down because there's something jammed in it. Looks like a peculiar musical instrument, probably centuries old. A few broken strings are still attached.

But yeah, the jury agrees. You've got to go blow up those trespassers.


	59. Act III: Shoot Target

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Suspended on a zipline above the lagoon
>   * _When:_ A little while ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Short chapter is short. Nonscientific problem solving.

###  Chapter 59: Act III: Shoot Target

_Whee!_

You land safely on the ledge you were aiming for. The harpoon is pretty solidly wedged into the stone. You put John's present down in just the right spot next to you, along with a letter you prepared a little while ago after a particularly interesting series of dreams. 

Should be any minute now...

With a small -ify, the package disappears. 

You need to leave some time-bait. With your trusty rifle and a single shot, you shoot the line from your window. Quite a bit of the cable coils next to you on the ledge. It's out of your hands now.

Now, how to get to the temple? You guess you could swim. Maybe you can think of a better way across though.

You hit upon a fun way to reach the temple. You take out your bass and portable amp, and carefully lower the latter down toward the water. Then you play a song to summon giant lily pads.

A few minutes later, you have a nice chain of lily pads you can hop across. You feel a bit like a frog as you leap from pad to pad. It's hard to resist the urge to ribbit.

Standing in the entrance to the temple, you can make out a [wall full of hieroglyphs](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/storyfiles/hs2/01147.gif). So cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes [this comic makes me go what?](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=003046)


	60. Act III: Read Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ PM
>   * _Where:_ Outside the temple
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Short chapter is short

###  Chapter 60: Act III: Read Letter

You are kind of confused.

The letter the little mayor gave you is clearly addressed to you. There is a drawing of your station, with two holes in the sides and the smoking stump of a pillar off to the left. An arrow tells you to enter the still smoking hole in the station.

But you guess it's straightforward enough, even if the drawing is somewhat inaccurate...

You glance up at the station with a single hole, and the intact pillar closer to you. A moment later, something impacts the pillar near the base and causes an explosion. _Oh no!_ You and the little fellow jump as the pillar topples.


	61. Act III: Berate Yourself Fiercely For The Unauthorized Demolition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Aimless Renegade
>   * _Where:_ In the ruined temple
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Short chapter, negative self-talk

###  Chapter 61: Act III: Berate Yourself Fiercely for the Unauthorized Demolition

STUPID STUPID STUPID 

You had them right in your crosshairs. You have no idea how a crack shot like you could have missed. It is practically inconceivable.

No matter. You are the law.

You reload and take aim. 

That fair carapace... how it sparkles in the desert light... 

No. You cannot afford to be distracted by such thoughts. You are busy being the law.

YOU ARE THE LAW—WHOOPS. At the last second, your aim jerks. Your next rocket hits the side of the helipod instead.

You are distracted by frantic movement. Oh, it's this guy again and his little blinking bee. Is he doing an interpretive dance? So outrageous.

The little guy suddenly throws a pink can in your direction. It doesn't come close to reaching you, bouncing off of the fallen pillar with a _klonk_.

The can ruse was a… [distraction](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/sweetbroandhellajeff/?cid=007.jpg)

You take aim again, this time at the distracting guy.

_Shooooo_

The rocket travels in a looping path to hit the first mobile station. Stupid!

At least that guy went flying off his feet this time.


	62. Act III: Get to Safety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ PM
>   * _Where:_ Outside the ruined temple
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Short chapter is short

###  Chapter 62: Act III: Get to Safety

Taking advantage of the distraction provided by your new friend, you scamper quickly to the newly created hole in your mobile station. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust after the glaring sun outside.

You HAVE the cargo.

Safely protected from what sounds like another blast, you read the next step of the letter. There is a picture of a machine where you are to deliver the package (yay!) At the bottom of the letter is a series of coordinates along with further instructions. 

You know what you must do. You place the package on the fractal platform.

Liberty. Reason. Justice. Civility. Edification. Perfection.

You cross the room and press the button. _SENDIFICATE_. You feel an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. Delivery made.

MAIL.


	63. Act III: Find Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Outside your house
>   * _When:_ Years in the past
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Time shenanigans, harm to wildlife

###  Chapter 63: Act III: Find Present

Today is your birthday. Your grandfather has decided to celebrate by introducing you to the thrill of the hunt. His most recent prey, a blue and pink butterfly, has just been obliterated by his ridiculously overpowered firearm.

But suddenly you and Bec are wandering off. Where is this silly dog taking you?

You ride him over the hill. When he stops, you find a _[-ificate]_ blue present addressed to you. You open it to find a shirt with a blue ghost on it that is way too big for you, and... pumpkin seeds? 

There is also a letter. In the upper right corner is a blobby shape saying “aw dang where'd i go??”

dear jade, 

  happy birthday!!! 

   it's hard to thank you enough for your friendship over the years. heck, if it weren't for you i wouldn't even have met rose and dave, so that is like, THREE TIMES the friendship! that is almost like, TOO MUCH FRIENDSHIP. ha ha. i only wish i could get you something for your birthday that could remotely make up for what you've given me, but of course that's impossible. so here are a couple silly things anyway! 

   i went to a weird asian store the other day and saw this rad shirt, so i got it and i'm wearing it now! but there was a blue one too which was way more awesome, and i wanted you to have it. i know you like green a lot, but maybe you'd like to try wearing blue sometimes? i bet you'd look like a million bucks! also i know you've been frustrated lately about how your pumpkins keep disappearing. well, i can't begin to explain why that's happening! all i can do is give you these so you can plant some more. don't give up, jade! wherever those dumb old pumpkins went off to, i'm sure you know the fun is in growing them and taking care of them until they're ready! 

   whew, got to head out to the post office now so this doesn't get to you TOO late! talk to you soon!!! 

   ~ghostyTrickster   
   (john)

Who is this John claiming to be your friend? And these other friends he mentions? You have never met anybody but your grandpa.

Whoever he is, you think he might be on to something. Blue is a very pretty color! Also, growing some pumpkins sounds like it could be fun. Maybe you will ask Grandpa if you can use the atrium to do some gardening. This will be exciting.


	64. Act III WHOP!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jack Noir
>   * _Where:_ Dersite palace, hallway
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Destruction of property

###  Chapter 64: Act III: WHOP

_WHOP!_

You bear the vicious brunt of this story transition directly in the face. 

You are getting really tired of this feisty man and his busy fists. You are going to kill the kid's dad yourself.

You hold up a knife. In your most menacing voice, you command, “Here, stick this in your pipe and bleed to death slowly.”

The prisoner suddenly holds a small metal object next to your hat and makes a clicking sound. A moment later, flames erupt from the insufferable headgear. You wince and dump the hat on the floor.

As soon as it is off your head, your opponent sprays shaving cream on the flames. You tuck the knife away and slump your shoulders as he then stamps out the flames. The hat loses all shape in the process. It is a charred, slimy mess. In your opinion, it actually looks better than it did. You cannot argue with this man's taste in headgear.

You sigh.

You release the prisoner. He is free to go.


	65. Act III: Install Beta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Minor cliffhanger

###  Chapter 65: Act III: Install Beta

You pop the server disc in your computer and get started.

TG: alright im installing this game finally   
TT: Where doing this man?   
TG: yeah   
TG: you could almost say   
TG: where making this   
TT: Go on.   
TT: What is it where making this?   
TG: TRANSPIRE   
TG:    
TT: Excellent.   
TT: Let's make shit take place.

The loading screen appears, and you sit back. Might as well pop a cold one while you wait. You pop the lid off your apple juice with one hand and just stare at the morphing spirograph. The changing colors of the cloudy background are kinda cool.

When that gets boring, you open up the most recent panel of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff you've been working on. 

Finally, the bouncing “SBURB” appears on your screen, and then the server session starts. Turns out Rose is a blonde with a cute haircut and a purple headband. Not quite the emo chick you were picturing.

Her house is pretty clearly on fire. You don't waste any time. The first thing you do is ditch the bed so you can deploy the Totem Lathe. You pay no attention to Rose's scowl.

There is not a lot of intact, open space in Rose's house. Too many knickknacks. You drop the Cruxtruder in the observatory and the Alchemiter on the roof.

“Striiiiiiideeeeerr!” Apparently there is no way to get to the roof. Rose screams in fury and pounds on the wall when she discovers this. Fortunately that's an easy fix with the revise tool. Voila, door and stairs.

You've heard Rose mention all the wizards with disdain before, so you don't think she'll mind if you get rid of this big statue in the middle of the living room. You bump it on the Cruxtruder to dislodge the cap, then drop the stupid thing outside. It breaks into several pieces as it lands next to the spinning pillar of flame outside. Man, you could write some sick raps about that if you were less pressed for time. 4:13 on the timer. You grab the pink cruxite dowel that Rose produces and set it by the Lathe. 

Gizmos deployed, you set the pre-punched card just as Rose runs into her room to meet it. She makes her totem, which you immediately put on the Alchemiter pedestal. Rose pauses before heading to the roof to throw her dead cat in the blinking kernelsprite, which forms a cat head. Meanwhile, you get an amusing idea for the second prototyping using the the tentacled princess doll on the couch.

The Alchemiter creates a cabinet of alcohol, from which a pink wine bottle drops to the platform. The hand of the statue that you tossed outside earlier is thrown by the funnel. You notice it too late to do more than groan as it arcs through the air on the perfect trajectory to knock the bottle flying into the river that seems to flow through her house. You can only imagine Rose's reaction. 

You leave your desk to deal with the murder of crows suddenly invading your room through the open window. Shouting and waving your arms does not do much to get them to leave. When you look back at your computer, Rose takes a running leap off the fucking roof to catch the bottle as it appears in the waterfall.

Thinking quickly, you dump the creepy doll from the living room into the sprite. The sprite immediately uses its tentacles to halt Rose's plummet. It reels her back in and sets her on the roof. She seems pleased with the cat-faced tentacle creature in a corset with puffy sleeves. Guess she likes it.

That fire funnel is getting kinda close.

Gritting her teeth, she raises the bottle high and brings it down. 11 seconds on the timer. You hold your breath. Your screen flashes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the animation that I watched upwards of a dozen times in order to catch all the relevant details.


	66. Act III: Sync

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Inside the temple
>   * _When:_ Some minutes ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Short chapter is short

###  Chapter 66: Act III: Synchronize

You spend a few minutes staring at the hieroglyphs on the walls. You can make out frogs and lizards standing on two legs, crawling turtles, along with lily blossoms and spirographs. You'd love to study them all day, but you do have an errand to complete. You scamper over to the giant round elevator in the middle of the floor and ride it down to the bottom of the temple.

When it stops, you hasten to your destination. You stare at the object sitting there. It's rather pretty, in a way. The base is a square brown pedestal, measuring about four feet along each side. On each side of the next layer of the pedestal there is a timer that has been counting down for billions of years, but there are only 4 minutes and 25 seconds left to wait. On top of the final circular layer is a huge purple flower bud sitting on green leaves. It seems to glow. 

You take a comfortable seat on the stone floor. Actually, you fall asleep for a little bit. When you wake up, there are only 19 seconds left and the lotus flower is opening. A glowing white sphere rises from the blossom. You sit up and watch the timer count down to zero. When it does, the sphere pops like a bubble and drops two juice-stained envelopes with “DAVE” printed on them.

It's so much fun seeing how everything works out.


	67. Act III: Clean House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your house (balcony)
>   * _When:_ Present (concurrent with "Install Beta" and "Sync")
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Tiny cliffhanger (it will take 16 chapters to come back to John)

###  Chapter 67: Act III: Clean House

After your alchemizing binge, you feel prepared to do something about the imp swarm cluttering up your house. Nanna's busy downstairs, writing a note with her eye lasers in the copy of _Sassacre_ Rose left lying on the floor of the kitchen, so it's up to you to show these imps who's boss.

No problem.

You scowl at the closest lousy goddamn imp. Your ghost gauntlets are on, the wrinklefucker is in your hands. You take a deep breath, and you _move_.

You swing the wrinklefucker wildly in every direction as you head for the stairs. You take out the last few stragglers near you and then start climbing through Rose's addition. She put in a lot of load-bearing walls which you manage not to knock down, but left your route pretty easy to follow. Except for the huge crowd of imps blocking your way, jeez.

There are a couple of ogres hanging out on the exterior of the house. Rose put in a couple of sets of stairs climbing the outside, probably just to fuck with you, and some balconies. You hammer at the ogres from a safe distance using the telescopic sassacrusher, and sweep up the grist on your way through afterwards. 

Near the top of your house you find an imp wearing your dad's hat. Oh, that is so not cool. You drop the wrinklefucker and punch it in the face on principle. Some things just require getting your hands dirty. The next imp that gets in your way gets a Crosbytop to the face. Both imp and computer go flying off the ledge. Oh well.

You finally dash up the last stairs to the platform at the top of the house, and hurtle over the imps standing about. You equip the pogohammer as you tumble toward the floor. You strike with the pogohammer and the rebound catapults you into the gate ten feet above your head.


	68. Intermission: Break In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Additional Notes: Here we embark upon the first lengthy intermission. I do not recommend skipping it, as the events herein do have repercussions later on in the main storyline (Remember how I said everything is relevant? That has not stopped being a thing that is true). That said, it's not my favorite part and I will do my best to make it short and sweet._
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Spades Slick
>   * _Where:_ An elaborate green mansion on a planet in another universe
>   * _When:_ A time that has no bearing whatsoever on the current timeline
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> (These hold true for the entire intermission.) Gratuitous violence, deliberate destruction of property, time shenanigans (seriously).

###  Chapter 68: Intermission: Break In

The moon is low in the purple sky as you enter a huge green mansion. Your name is Spades Slick. You are the leader of a notoriously vicious gang of mobsters called the Midnight Crew. A rival gang known as The Felt recently knocked over one of your favorite casinos. Your long quest of revenge has finally taken you through the front door of the mansion belonging to their loathsome boss, Lord English.

Your subordinates, Clubs Deuce, Diamonds Droog, and Hearts Boxcars have been dispatched to various locations throughout the mansion to begin carrying out your mission. Your objective is to locate and crack English's secret vault, and plunder its mysteries. 

That's the business end of it. The pleasure will be painting this ugly house red with the blood of those miserable green motherfuckers.

There are clocks everywhere. You think there might be a thousand of them. You give the closest one a kick. Stupid gang and their lousy obsession with clocks. The sooner all these idiots stop being alive the better. 

You wonder where they are. It's awfully quiet in the mansion, sans all the dreadful ticking.

You are not going to captchalogue the carriage clock. You obviously have no idea what that means. If it's some smartass way of saying to pick it up, forget it. You are already carrying an item. It is your trusty deck of cards. You are also carrying your five weapons: a horsehitcher, an eight of clubs, a knife, a four of spades, and Occam's Razor.

You gather up the four clocks in the entry hall, as if you were going to build a fort. You have an idea that is so much better. You light them on fire instead.

Clocks destroyed: 4/1000

You turn away from the burning effigy and check under the billiards rug for traps. What is under the rug is much worse than any trap you can imagine. It is a member of a species that you do not recognize, with a ghastly furred upper lip. You do not know how lucky you are to have never head a Redneck joke.

You cover the unsightly individual back up and try to forget it ever existed. 

A game of 52 pickup would be more amusing right now. You would need a deck of cards to play that infernal game. Fortunately all you have is your war chest, which you deploy on the floor. Spikes stick out of the top, and the latch is in the shape of a spade.

You pop open the war chest to double check your inventory. You rummage around. It's no unusual assortment of belongings, and nothing any mobster worth his salt would be caught plotting and scheming without. Certainly nothing eyebrow raising. 

Bunch of blades, some playing cards, and a variety of other miscellaneous stuff. 

Also your vendetta itinerary and your heist map tacked to the underside of the lid.

You feel the need to scavenge for fancy headwear. If there are any elaborate headdresses in here, you'll eat your haberdasher. But of course there is only a plain and serviceable backup hat, which naturally conceals two licorice scotty dogs. You fail to catch them as you flip the hat upright, and they land on the floor.

Which makes you think that maybe you are wearing your backup hat, and this is your usual one? Hell if you know. They are the same damn hat: a black fedora with a center dent.

You try to hide inside your war chest. You cannot hide properly inside the chest because you cannot close it while you are inside, even after dumping all your items on the floor. 

Instead you momentarily pretend it is a really cool automobile that commands the fear and respect of larcenous adversaries everywhere. 

BEEP BEEP BEEP 

All aboard the idiot wagon!

You think you should start up the Crosbytop you took out of your chest. You kick the strange computer. Is that what this thing is? You've had it for some time, and don't quite remember how you got it. You never knew the identity of this pipe-smoking creature. 

Perhaps it could be the same species as the character you just saw under the rug. But you know that is impossible, because this one does not feature the same bizarre furred lip. They are probably differing species within the same genus.

Luckily, you do not need to know anything about the face on the outside to operate the laptop. You go to mspaintadventures.com. You see two stupid black-haired kids and two stupid blonds doing stupid things. You don't know why you are wasting time on this website. It is for little children who poop hard in their baby ass diapers. 

Also you don't understand what the hell is going on or who all these characters are. It's all a lot of nonsense.

You notice the time in the corner of the screen. You grab the nearest sharp object, a set of gardening shears, and delete the time setting by stabbing the screen.

Clocks destroyed: 5/1000

You pick up the spade key on the floor, and it turns into the Rules card for Blackjack. On the backside is a square made up of nine barcodes. You have possessed this item for as long as you can remember. You do not yet know its significance. Though you can hustle up a mean game of blackjack when you need to.

On to more relevant matters. You take a look at your vendetta itinerary. These are the mugshots of everyone you are going to kill. There are fourteen pictures of green-skinned fellows in colored and numbered hats. The mugshot for number eight is missing.

You got a head start. You already offed Crowbar (7), Matchsticks (11), and Quarters (14), depleting them of some of their muscle. You've still got to watch out for the others, and stay wary of their despicable time shenanigans.

Itchy (1) has given you the slip repeatedly. Doze (2) you've captured and interrogated just as repeatedly, to no avail. Trace (3) has broken into your secret hideout more times than you can count, while Fin (5) always seems to be a step ahead of you and scoops your heists. Clover (4) has all the intel and is highly cooperative. You might need him to crack the vault. He'll be guarded. Best to avoid Die (6) in any direct confrontations unless you want a temporal mess on your hands. But if you need any repairs, you could always get to Stitch (9) and "persuade" him. And you might need to if you can't kill Sawbuck (10) with a clean shot. Eggs (12) and Biscuits (13) are morons. But they are dangerous morons. Cans (15) is a tank and your crew'll probably need more ammunition than you packed to take him down. 

No one knows what Lord English looks like, hence the question mark on top of the array. But that'll be corrected tonight. 

You've got dibs on English. He's all yours.

The number 8 mugshot is in your hand. But you aren't gonna kill Snowman (8). It's out of the question.

You take a look at the green heist map. 

You are in the entry way. Deuce and Droog split up to neutralize as many Felt as they can find. Diamonds Droog is in a small room at the top of some stairs in the east wing. Clubs Deuce should be near the back of the west wing. Your heavy muscle and expert safecracker, Boxcars, is headed straight down to the vault at the back of the house. Paths have been marked with dotted lines. Dead green torsos have been added, decorated with red splatters, and several smashed clocks have been crossed out.

On review, your schemes seem a bit convoluted. But you wouldn't have it any other way. 

You put the word out to your cronies on the radio for a status report. No response yet. 

You clean up all your junk and prepare to get this show on the road. You slip the spade key, your current item, back into the deck of cards, then pocket the war chest. Smooth as clockwork, and every bit as logical.

You continue down the hallway in front of you. Funny, you didn't hear any commotion or gunplay. But it looks like there's already been some action in here. Or there will be. You can never take tense for granted with these goons. But those clocks by the staircase got riddled with bullet holes and coated with blood somehow.

13/1000 clocks destroyed. Apparently. 

Looks like Clubs Deuce is getting back to you on the radio. He says he's got Doze tied up for interrogation. 

You ask him what else is new. Capturing that guy is like shooting a paralyzed monkey in the face.


	69. Intermission: Be Hearts Boxcars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author did research on hats for this. Author detests hats. Please forgive any haberdashery mishaps.

###  Chapter 69: Intermission: Be Hearts Boxcars

You are now Clubs Deuce. You are in a large room with clocks lining the walls. You have Doze tied to a chair. Time to rough him up. He remains tight-lipped, so you deal him a senseless shin-drubbing with your crook of felony, which greatly resembles a table leg. 

Oh the humanity. You can barely watch.

Doze's eyes kind of flash bluish. He's probably still using his special ability to slow time down for himself. He can't feel a damn thing, and certainly isn't saying anything. Apart from a very low noise which could be him saying "ow" very, very slowly.

You should punch some clocks in their faces to establish chronology. Why would you do that? All of these clocks are lovely. You see no reason to harm them. You briefly abandon Doze to admire your favorite more closely.

987/1000 clocks unharmed.

You begin a feeble campaign of psychological warfare. Perhaps compromising his fashion motif is the way to get to him. You take his blue #2 hat and put your black porkpie in its place.

Nope. Looks like he's still in his weird state of stasis and doesn't care. 

Either that or it's driving him nuts. Just very slowly.

Maybe you could dump the contents of your war chest over him. War chest? What war chest? You glance away from Doze to double-check, and miss seeing a quick fellow in a yellow hat sneaking behind Doze. All you've got is this simple, unassuming deck of cards. 

You could play a game of solitaire while you wait for your psychological warfare to take effect, but to play solitaire you'd need a deck of cards. You don't see a deck of cards. All you see is your battledrobe. This freestanding closet is of course marked with a club on the door.

You throw down your (Doze's) hat to stomp on it, but freeze at the sight of another of The Felt. Oh no. It's Itchy, and it looks like he's all wound up. He unties Doze and quickly swaps everyone's hats around. Your foot is now hovering over Slick's hat. Doze's blue hat is back on his head. And Itchy trades his yellow hardhat for what looks like Droog's cowboy hat.

Itchy vanishes, and Doze proceeds to make a fleetfooted getaway. 

The chase...

 

...Is on


	70. Intermission: Stop Being Hearts Boxcars

### Chapter 70: Intermission: Stop Being Hearts Boxcars

Alright, you're the boss. Hearts Boxcars you ain't. You have just smashed a small clock in the middle of a parlor.

Someone has replaced your plain and serviceable hat with a silly and undersized one. An outrage beyond compare. You're sure you know who the culprit was. You can still smell his overly caffeinated blood... 

986/1000 clocks shown mercy.

You lift your left leg and hold it a little ways in the air. Sure enough, a few moments later, Itchy trips over it and falls to the floor in front of you.

Oops.

You heft your horse hitcher and scowl.

4/15 green torsos dead.

You are left wearing Deuce's hat and looking at Droog's hat on the floor. Your own hat is nowhere to be seen. This is exactly why you always keep a backup hat on hand. 

This son of a bitch on the floor here has played his last game of musical hats. Soon these lugs will learn to show you some respect. You made this town what it is after all. Wasn't nothin' but a bunch of dust and rocks before you got here.

You deploy your war chest again, dropping it on the bloody green torso. You swap this dinky little hat for one more suited to your tastes. 

Wait a minute... 

Thank god. Your precious scotty dogs are still here. You don't know what you'd do without them. You don't want to even think about it.

You have barely tucked the candy away when Die makes his usual sort of entrance. The nonplussed, vaguely bewildered sort. He is simply suddenly there, holding a white voodoo doll with four pins in it.


	71. Intermission: Be Diamonds Droog

### Chapter 71: Intermission: Be Diamonds Droog

You got it. Clubs Deuce it is.

You have opened your battledrobe in search of your backup hat. You also need some more rope to retie Doze, who is absolutely tearing through the mansion as we speak. If you don't hurry, he may clear the chair within the hour. 

But your battledrobe is a big mess. You mostly just see a bunch of bombs and cards. You puzzle over the cards for a minute. You're not sure what's what. You can never remember which card to pick up. 

You can't believe how shitty your memory is.

You pick up the deuce of clubs. These two licorice gummy bears need to be stored for safe-keeping as soon as possible. Finding your backup hat has never been more urgent.

You pick up a bunch of cards and fling them Doze-ward. Didn't accomplish a whole lot, other than put some of your private reading material ( _Black Inches:_ “Licorice as far as the eye can see.”) on embarrassing public display. A bundle of dynamite and a timer happen to land on Doze's head.

You're a busy guy so you just pick up any old thing and put it on your head. Since you are in a big hurry you will assume that it is your backup hat. Even though it feels heavier and blockier than your hat.

You stand nearby the two remaining cards on the floor. An off-suited king and jack. You aren't going to stand around jack king off all day long, so you grab the jack of diamonds. 

Oh. 

Here's your backup hat. Problem solved, you guess. You slap it on top of the C4 on your head.

You rummage around a little more for some way to tie up Doze. You can't find any rope. Huh, here's a Stretch Armstrong Doll you don't remember getting. You yank Doze back to his chair and make use of the super stretchy limbs of the doll. It looks sort of dumb, but it will have to do.

Your radio crackles. Diamonds Droog has a job for you. He lays it out for you.

After giving a quick 10-4 over the radio, you take another look at your prisoner. He lucked out. Looks like round two of your brutal interrogation will have to wait. Time to hit the road, and Doze is coming too. You beat your hostage, chair and all, into the back of your battledrobe with the bull penis cane. 

Wait this is a bull penis cane?

You flip the fuck out over the fact that this is apparently a _bull penis cane_.


	72. Intermission: Forget You Are CD. Believe You Are Hearts Boxcars

### Chapter 72: Intermission: Forget You Are CD. Believe You Are Hearts Boxcars

You suddenly remember you are Diamonds Droog. You are standing at the base of a staircase with a trail of blood leading up it. You are wearing a yellow hardhat.

Whoever took your hat is about to discover he's the unluckiest man on earth. He better hope you find him dead. What you're gonna do to him will be much less painful that way.

In the mean time, you will have to wear your backup hat. Except you don't have a backup hat all you got is this deck of cards oh wait yes you do. It's stashed away in your brawlsoleum, which looks like a doghouse not quite as tall as you are. You are the only member of this band of thugs who is civilized enough to keep more than one backup hat, as well as an extensive array of finely tailored suits. Your white ties hang on the inside of the door.

The brawlsoleum seemed like the best storage option for your exceptional wardrobe. If there's any better sort of compartment to keep your wardrobe in, you'd love to hear it. 

Also there's a shitload of guns and cards in there too. 

You put on a backup hat.

Then you withdraw a two of diamonds from the hat. Whew. Your swedish fish are there. This is why it's a good idea to always store your candy in your backup hat rather than your usual one. Other members of your gang have learned this the hard way and they're finally starting to catch on.

WHOP! Suddenly you get coldcocked in the face from the future. You wave your pool cue around, but there's no one to hit right now.

You'd know the knuckles belonging to that suckerpunch anywhere. Trace always knows where you've been. The spineless rat likes to follow your past trail around and mess with you.

Trouble is, whenever he does, he lets you know exactly where he's going to be in the future. This time you'll be ready for him. You radio Deuce for backup. Give him a time and place, and exactly what path through the mansion to take. He'll be here just when Trace is.

With Trace to be taken care of, you turn your attention back to the trail of blood. You don't know if the wounded guy went up the stairs, or came down. Or who wounded him, and when. Might have even been you, for all you know.

Can't overthink this time stuff. 

You go with your gut and head upstairs.

At the top of the stairs is a short hallway. You follow the blood through the open doorway to your left into a music room or something. Looks like the trail of blood ends here. Or originates. Whatever. Either way, there's a big puddle of blood on the floor in front of a bullet-riddled and cracked grandfather clock.

Something went down here in the past. Or... is about to go down in the future? You know what, never mind. 

21/1000 clocks destroyed, apparently.

Hang on. There's a pointed green tooth on the floor. You know that tooth. You've felt its bite before. 

Fin was here. 

And judging by the forensics of the scene, the angle it hit the floor, the direction of the blood splatters and how dry the blood is, you think you know exactly what he's about to pull. 

Or more specifically, what he's about to already have pulled.

Fin always knows where you're going. He's followed your future trail here. He likes to mess with you from the past. Trouble is he tips you off to where he's been. This time you're ready. 

Wait for it. Wait...

NOW.

You whip out your pool cue and strike Fin's not-quite-visible body across the chest and face. As he flinch(ed) back, you swap your pool cue for a machine gun and shoot into the past. Predestined bullet holes are convenient. Gives you something to aim for. 7/21 clocks redestroyed.

Now you know that Fin limped off down the stairs, where you picked up the trail. Nothing else to do here. You could follow his blood trail downstairs and finish him off. Problem with that is, he'll just see your future trail following him, and that'll be nothing but a loud invitation for him to mess with you some more. 

Besides, better to leave him alive. You think you know where he'll lead you to. Just got to be a little more subtle about tracing his blood trail. Keep your future trail out of his line of sight.

Fortunately, you've already provided the bait for Fin to follow.


	73. Meanwhile Running Roughly Parallel with Current Events

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _You are:_ Die ( 6)

### Meanwhile Running Roughly Parallel with Current Events

You are playing poker with Itchy on a green-covered table. In your hand are the two red aces. On the table between you are the 8 of hearts, king of spades, ace of clubs, 6 of diamonds, and 2 of spades.

You both lay your cards on the table. Itchy's hand is the two red kings. The 8 of hearts suddenly becomes the king of clubs (the 2 of spades also becomes two scotty dogs, but you don't care about that). You grit your teeth and tighten your grip on your voodoo doll. Itchy always cheats. But he's always cheated for the last time. 

You're gonna jump to a timeline where he's dead.

You insert the yellow-headed pin into the doll, and are abruptly standing in a green parlor with an abundance of clocks. Itchy is splayed out on the floor, bleeding from the head with a pack of cards on his chest. Looks like he got what he deserved. 

But, uh... 

As usual, you find yourself in a bit of a predicament. An entirely black fellow is standing next to the body, and he looks none too pleasant.

He's not. He introduces his cast iron horse hitcher to your temple. Woozy, you drop twitching to the floor.

You scramble for a pin you've been saving for a special occasion. You have prepared four pins for the rival gang. You stick the spade pin in the doll, jumping to a timeline without Spades Slick in it. The mansion and the city around it disappear, leaving a desert of purple, blue, and red, and some fuchsia ruins. Both the pink and the green moons sit low in the sky. 

Um...

How many times does he have to tell you. He made this town.


	74. Intermission: HB: Stop Being SS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Disturbing innuendo/imagery

### Chapter 74: Intermission: HB: Stop Being SS

You stop not being Hearts Boxcars. 

You have made your way to the Felt's secret vault. It's bigger than you were expecting, in that the door is several times your not inconsiderable height. You doubt you will be able to rely on your usual safe-cracking method, which is prying it from the wall with your bare hands. You'll have to think of something else.

You try a silly dance, waving your arms up and down and tapping your feet. This is just absolutely the most ridiculous thing you could possibly choose to do right now. I mean come on. 

Why don't you take a closer look at that safe... 

Seriously, stop dancing.

Maybe you could pry the wall from the safe. That notion is even more ridiculous than the last one. Wait who are you kidding no it isn't. 

You take another look at the safe. The door is an analog clock with roman numerals. The hands are currently pointing toward 12:13.

Looks like the combination to the safe is entered via the hands of the clock. And you somehow doubt spinning the hands around manually is going to cut it. Knowing these guys, you've got to alter the flow of time itself to make it work. 

Which of course is bullshit. You think you'll just blow it up instead. Time to get Deuce on the radio.

You deploy your wrathtub, which is a gray bathtub covered with bright red hearts and filled with axes and maces and some other stuff.

You pull the two of hearts from your backup cowboy hat, retrieving your pair of wax lips. If anyone tried to steal your wax lips, you would eat their eyeballs and deliver an angry lecture into their empty sockets. You put your candy away and double-check that your literature is likewise safe. Just glancing at _Red Cheeks Magazine_ gives you palpitations. 

Literature for avid cardioficionados such as yourself. Those burgeoning red humps... that mischievous little tail... the snug, welcoming cleft... 

The saucy imagery is hard to beat. Harder than what you beat inside your chest now. Your heart is what you're beating. You beat it to _Red Cheeks Magazine_ pretty regularly, you'd say.

Enough messing around. You radio Deuce on the 10-4 cards. Let him know you you need a powdermonkey on the double. He says something about how he'll be right there once he gives Droog a hand.

You hear ticking. And it's not coming from the big vault clock above. 

You hope it's not what you think it is...

Sure enough, there is an orange oven in the corner. 

Oh no. Oh God. 

It's Biscuits. His oven timer is ticking. This is no good.

_Bzzzzz._

The oven door pops open. Ugh, there he is. Biscuits is as tall as you are and twice as massive. His stupid hat has white sides and a wide stripe of orange down the middle. The number 13 is proudly displayed on the front. He has a massive underbite.

This idiot thinks his special oven transports him into the future by the amount he sets on the timer. Well, he's sort of right. But in reality, all that's happening is that he's hiding in there until the timer's up, then pops out. 

You guess he's relatively harmless if he's alone. You can take him. What you really have to worry about is if he teams up with... 

Oh no. That ringing. That godawful ringing. You can hear it...

_Riiiiing Riiiiing Riiiiing._

Eggs. 

Every time his timer rings, another version of him appears. The second one that appears has swapped his purple striped hat for your cowboy hat and is holding one your war-axes. The third one is holding Biscuits' oven and has a chunk of his hat torn away. 

Son of a FUCK. 

You might as well just grab one of your axes and kill yourself now. 

You waste exactly four hours on this tomfoolery.

Eggs and Biscuits have multiplied to the point you don't bother keeping track of them. There is way too much ringing and buzzing going on, and too many of your weapons in the hands of your enemies. 

YOU HATE TIME TRAVEL YOU HATE TIME TRAVEL YOU HATE TIME TRAVEL YOU HATE TIME TRAVEL YOU HATE TIME TRAVEL YOU HATE TIME TRAVEL YOU HATE TIME TRAVEL YOU HATE TIME TRAVEL YOU HATE TIME TRAVEL YOU HATE TIME TRAVEL YOU HATE TIME TRAVEL

Above, on a ledge next to the vault, a spectator in a purple hat has appeared at the strike of 4 and has been giggling at your foolishness for a number of minutes. Clover would have been tickled to help you open this vault! At the cost of answering a few of his clever time riddles, needless to say. 

If only you'd thought to seek his help first, rather than charging like the silly brute you are into this deadly trap of stable and not so stable time loops. Mostly unstable, really. These guys are way too dumb to maintain even elementary looping stability for more than a couple iterations. 

If you weren't so preoccupied, Clover could tell you that you could use Crowbar's help to pry anything out of a time loop, stable or otherwise. 

If you weren't so preoccupied, and if he weren't so dead! Hee hee hee!

Even if you weren't so preoccupied, you would have no idea that Stitch was working on the problem elsewhere in the mansion…(more on that later)

You get the boss on the radio. You tell Slick to get his scrawny ass to the vault. It's goddamn bedlam down here. You tell him you asked Deuce for backup but surprise surprise he's nowhere to be found. Big surprise, you tell him. You tell him that was sarcasm. He says he knows. 

Slick says he'll be right there. He'll see if he can round up Droog for support.

In the meantime, you prod the idiots with _Red Cheeks_. This predictably accomplished nothing! Taking your smut out of hiding turned out to be a very bad idea. Now copies from the future are appearing left and right and these clowns have their paws all over it. 

SLICK WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU


	75. Intermission: SS: Rematerialize

### Chapter 75: Intermission: SS: Rematerialize 

That doesn't make any sense. You never went anywhere. (It was Die who switched timelines, not you. Die realizes there is a cost to settling the score with you in this way. The cost is having to live in a desert amidst the ruins of a dead civilization for the rest of his life. He thinks that's stupid, so he pulls your pin.)

As soon as Die rematerializes, you help him live up to his name. You knife slits his throat so quickly he never even has a chance to save himself. You cross number 6 off your hit list.

Then you take his voodoo doll and stick his pin in there for good measure. Might as well keep track of everyone you've offed this way too. Not that you intend to abuse its power to settle your score. What's the point if you're not gonna get your hands dirty. 

Still, it might come in handy down the road. Lord English is supposedly indestructible. He's rumored to be killable only through a number of glitches and exploits in spacetime. The doll may ultimately help you work the system if it comes to that.

Alright, enough lollygagging. You pile all the clocks in the room with the bodies and set everything on fire. 29/1000 clocks destroyed, 5/15 green torsos dead.

The crackle of the flames is interrupted by the crackle of your radio. Boxcars is flipping out about Eggs and Biscuits. You can hear really irritating ringing and buzzing in the background. You guess you could send Droog his way.

Droog says Deuce is tailing Fin, while he is tailing Deuce. He'll be there to help out Boxcars as soon as he and Deuce take care of business with Stitch. Couldn't be simpler. 

Oh yeah, he also mentions he pumped Fin full of lead so you can cross him off the list. You roger all that.


	76. Intermission: SS: Return to being Hearts Boxcars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me fits. Tense confusion, time shenanigans, ADD ahead.

### Chapter 76: Intermission: SS: Return to being Hearts Boxcars

Spades Slick cannot return to being Hearts Boxcars because obviously Diamonds Droog is too busy being Clubs Deuce. You are hiding behind pillars and clocks as you sneakily follow the bright red #3 hat.

You just watched Trace throw a punch into thin air for some reason. That guy's awfully silly! 

He then skulks off somewhere. 

You don't realize he's following Droog's past trail through the mansion until he gets to the point where it intersects with your trail, at which point he'll start following you to mess with you. You follow Droog's simple instructions. So simple even a forgetful nincompoop like you can remember. You take the tied-up Doze out of your battledrobe and leave him on Trace's trail.

There's a blood trail on the floor that goes in a different direction than Trace went. You decide to follow it, because that sounds like a really good idea to you. If there was something you were supposed to do after helping out Droog, you'll be damned if you remember what it was.

Later, Trace catches up to where you were. But you're gone already. All he sees is the long, gross red rubbery arm of your past trail stretching through the room. He finds his comrade tied up with the stretchy rubber arms of a small man. But there is nothing gross or unpalatable about that in the least. 

Doze unslows himself and begins mumbling something feverishly. Something about his hat.

When Trace removes Doze's blue hat, underneath he finds the surprise you left for him. You think the timer will reach zero before he can remove the dynamite from Doze's head. 7/15 green torsos dead, 107/1000 clocks destroyed. 

Awhile ago, Fin made his way through the mansion to get some help. He was bleeding profusely from numerous future bullet holes. Your future trail is headed in the same direction he's headed, by sheer coincidence. Fin decided to follow you for a bit, for as long as your path matches his, that is. There's pretty much no chance you're headed to the same place, though. That would be statistically improbable. 

He's got no idea what these other goons are up to here. Funny, their future trails end here. He's not gonna stick around long enough to find out why. He's a bit too woozy from the blood loss to sort out this mess anyway.

It's uncanny. You are matching Fin's route every step of the way. Every sidestep and meandering curve through large rooms and narrow hallways.

YOU MUST KNOW SOMETHING. 

Fin decides he's got to take you out. But he can't get a clear shot. Too dizzy, and with all that C4 under your hat, firing would be a bad idea. 

MY GOD YOU'VE THOUGHT OF EVERYTHING. 

You are clearly a criminal mastermind.

You stop to admire this gorgeous clock in the middle of a huge open room. It is so pretty. You really like the bird perched on top with wings spread. Too bad it's not ticking like so many of the clocks in this place. Not that you can blame them. There are so many clocks in this mansion it would obviously be impractical to make sure they all work properly. 

Oh look. A trail of blood. You think you'll start following it.


	77. Intermission: Be Interrupted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter you are Stitch (9)

### Chapter 77: Intermission: Be Interrupted

You are glad to be safely in your shop. Judging by the states of the effigies hanging from the ceiling, the mansion has become a deathtrap. You suppose you had better do something about that. Flashing colors catch your eye. You guess Eggs and Biscuits are roughhousing again, because the fabric of spacetime is tearing something fierce on Lord English's cairo overcoat. All the patches and hems are cycling through every color of the pool table at a rapid pace. You mutter irritably to yourself. This sort of thing is exactly why he keeps a backup coat, and always leaves you with one of them. 

Any gang does well to have an in-house doctor on hand. But if you deal in time travel you better have a damn good tailor too.

You look up from your task when Fin busts into your workshop blubbering something about watching out for the little guy who's about to come in here. He says to watch out because he's got a bomb on his head which is undoubtedly quite volatile and even the slightest spark would surely set it off. 

You can see Fin's obviously in pretty bad shape, dripping blood from dozens of holes, and you double-check his orange-hat-wearing effigy. Sure enough, the thing's in tatters. But he should be just fine if it can be patched up before he bleeds to...

Before you can even reach for your thread, Fin faceplants. Smoke wisps off his effigy as it turns from white to charcoal gray.

...death. 8/15 effigies charred.

A moment later, the door bangs open again. In bursts a short little guy wearing C4 on his head under his hat. “Everybody out of the god damn way!” He's got a hat full of bomb, a fist full of penis, and a head full of empty.

Unimpressed by the wild flailing of the cane, you point a gun at the intruder. “Drop the livestock knob and settle the hell down. You do realize C4 is a stable explosive and won't detonate with gunfire, right?” 

The little guy looks disappointed. “Oh.” He stops flailing and puts his hands in the air.


	78. Intermission: DD: Sneak into Stitch's boutique

### Chapter 78: Intermission: DD: Sneak into Stitch's boutique

You've got your hands full. Slick's telling you to go help out Boxcars, but you've got to wrap up the situation with Fin. You have successfully followed Deuce following Fin's blood trail. You picked them up in the ballroom just in time to catch Deuce admiring a big clock. You see where he's headed, and prowl around for another entrance. You figure a guy like Stitch isn't gonna get himself stuck in a room with only one exit.

You're right. You sneak past a big ugly coat and some effigies in varying states of disrepair, and pull your own gun while Stitch is preoccupied with Deuce. 

“Drop it and get in. Don't bleed on the suits.”

Stitch says “Huh?”

His brief moment of confusion is enough for you to hit him in the face with the butt of your gun. Then you stuff his unconscious body into your brawlsoleum. You admit the thought of carrying an imprisoned tailor wherever you go is gratifying for personal reasons. 

But in this case keeping him alive should be useful in dealing with English later.

You've got some other ideas of how to make use of him, too.


	79. Intermission: SS: Pull Crowbar's Pin

### Chapter 79: Intermission: SS: Pull Crowbar's Pin

You look at the voodoo doll in your hand. If you just remove Crowbar's pin... You pinch the solid red ball of the pin and tug. 

You are no longer standing in English's mansion. Instead you are in a warehouse in the middle of a gun fight. Crowbar's alive again. And a whole bunch of other stuff is different. You forgot this gang almost seems halfway competent when he's running the show. 

The good news is you get to kill him again.

You glance at the pins you picked up with the doll. You consider inserting and quickly removing Snowman's black pin. You have no idea how much you'd like to. But even you're not that crazy. 

Still, kinda tempting.

Speak of the devil. Light flashes as a door opens to one side of the room. You glance away from the gun fight. An elegant black carapacian in a green-lined trench-coat appears on the steps to the side. She is holding an old-fashioned cigarette holder and wearing a wide-brimmed black hat. She glides down the steps and into the middle of the fight. The bullets cease momentarily. Everyone always ceases gunplay when Snowman's around. If you kill her you destroy the universe.

“Hold still, Slick.”

The other members of your crew glance at you. You grit your teeth and remind yourself that you can't kill her.

“Something in your eye.” On the last word, she abruptly stabs her cigarette holder into your right eye and leaves it there. Then she casually turns and wanders on through the warehouse.

You pull Snowman's cigarette holder from your eye. Didn't even have the decency to stab you with a knife. All you know is she's gonna have a hell of a time getting it back.

You chuck the lance (formerly a cigarette holder) at Sawbuck. It strikes him firmly between the shoulder and the chest. But of course it's only a fleshwound. Seems like that's the only sort of wound you can ever inflict on the corpulent lummox. 

Consequently you and he both jump to a random point on the timeline. This looks to be in the recent past, when Stitch and Crowbar were setting up the crates for the imminent gunfight. Which was very thoughtful of them. You appreciate how they provided two barricades to shoot each other from.

Your goons should be showing up any minute with the heavy firepower. For now you've got the drop on everybody.

You could just kill something out of rage and frustration. Stitch gets the business end of your saber rattle. He's dead. In this timeline at least.

Sawbuck seems to take exception to your violence. You give him a kick to reverse his momentum. “Where do you think you're going, fatty?” 

You'll deal with him in a minute. Time to bring knives to a gunfight. You whip out your double edged sword and Occam's Razor and take aim at Crowbar's head.

Crowbar deflects the king of spades into Sawbuck's unmissable carriage. You jump far into the past. The world is a pastel desert, void of civilization. The only sign of life is some black carapacian wrapped in rags off behind you. The Scurrilous Straggler dismisses all of you as not worth his time, though he does give you a nod of approval for your fashionable and serviceable hat.

You equip your horse hitcher and hit Crowbar in the head, knocking him out. You can't kill him yet. You need him alive to return to the original timeline. 

You will be taking that red crowbar though. Then you cram Crowbar none too carefully into the war chest. 

Sawbuck you need to keep alive too, for the moment. Not to return to the right timeline, but the right time. Speaking of which, where's tubby think he's waddling off to. You'd better stab him until the time shenanigans stop. You treat him to a bit of the old bait and switchblade, attracting his attention to the card in your hand and then cutting him when it becomes a knife. 

You and Sawbuck appear in the future, still in the warehouse. You guess this is after the gunfight is over. The gunfight that never took place since you killed/kidnapped everyone who was supposed to be involved. Looks like only Boxcars is here.

Since your war chest is full, you haul Sawbuck onto your shoulder. He's really too heavy to carry for long. You order Hearts to drop his tub on the double before this fat lard puts you in a wheelchair. 

If you take Sawbuck back to your own time and kill him there, that should save you the trouble of hunting him down. Might as well take Stitch too. 

Maybe. You're not really sure if that's how it works. You don't really care though.

You dump them in the wrathtub, then stick the tub in your own deck of cards. But you give Boxcars back his sordid literature, which he'd carelessly left in plain sight. No one will ever catch you leaving your smut around. And even if you did, that copy of _Terrier Fancy Magazine_ could belong to _anybody_. No one could prove nothin'.

Anyway, you stick Crowbar's pin back into the voodoo doll. You go back to your original timeline, at the foot of a staircase in English's mansion. There are a lot of broken clocks and blood spatters that weren't here before.

But now, stuffed in your chest you've got a live Crowbar from another timeline. Brought to the timeline where he's supposed to be dead... so you guess now he's alive in this timeline which is in part defined by his death? Ok, whatever. You should probably just kill him again anyway. Also Sawbuck from another timeline is in there too. So you guess now there are two Sawbucks? This is getting kind of dumb.

You open the chest releasing them both. Crowbar doesn't look too pleased. He gets to his feet and points a gun at you, but he seems a little shaky. Using your horse hitcher, you deflect his gunfire into the awesome gravitational pull of Sawbuck's astonishing girth. 

Everybody into the past! The clocks are now intact, sans blood spatter. You dodge his next round too. 

It seems Sawbuck from this timeline (i.e. the "real" Sawbuck) was in this room at this point in time. He and Crowbar exchange bullets. Off they go through time. 

They no doubt go on to spend the rest of their ammunition peppering each other throughout the timeline, destroying all these clocks in the process between now and the present. You guess that explains the mess when you got here. Thank God you figured that out. You'd have surely lost sleep over it. 

20/107 clocks redestroyed. For the first time. Eventually... You know what, never mind.

You still have Sawbuck to deal with. You take a moment to think up some time-based one-liners. 

Ok you think you got one. You equip the appropriate weapon and approach Sawbuck.

“Time travel sure can be a... double edged sword.” You stab Sawbuck in the gut with the eponymous sword.

Wait, that was awful. Really really bad. You're sure you can do better than that.

Let's see... sorry to... no... time's running... no wait... fuck. 

You ask yourself from the past for a little help. Time's... something about time. Time being up. No wait, how about some kind of clock pun. No, dammit, will you just listen. You were almost onto something. Time... time is... 

Screw this. Too many cooks in the kitchen. 

Oh and just what does this quivering mound of blubber think he is up to? Like you don't see him lifting that revolver. Guess you'll just have to stab first, utter puns later. 

Just as you hear your past self asking what happened to your eye, you jab Sawbuck with your butterfly effect knife. You remember a little while ago asking yourself about your eye, and not giving yourself an answer just before disappearing. Maybe if you stopped and thought about it for a second, you could have warned yourself and avoided the whole mess, albeit in the process of creating a paradox. But your strict policy of stabbing first and answering questions later prevented it. You're sure your past self understands/understood. You are sure of this because you very clearly remember understanding/understooding.

Being your future self is a lot more constructive because you get to do stuff you haven't already done. 

Looks like you're in the future. It's a bloody mess in here. The clocks are more bullet-riddled than ever. And it seems Crowbar and both Sawbucks have been decapitated. You're almost certain this is something you will be, or were already, responsible for. Which of course means more time traveling. 

Looks like the tub and chest are gone. Which means future-you must have packed up and left already. Got to take note of these sorts of things so you know where you are in the timeline. 

You notice across the room that one of the clocks on the wall that wasn't destroyed before is now bloodied and full of holes. It stopped at 4:59. Not especially noteworthy. You just have a feeling you should register this fact. 108/1000 clocks destroyed.

You still have not-dead Sawbuck to deal with. You brace yourself and pry the cigarette holder/lance from his torso. Whoops, another time jump. There's a lot less blood on the floor now.

This tub of goo keeps going for his gun. Widebody's gotta settle his big ass down. You really should incapacitate him without inflicting another wound. You get him in a headlock. COUNT SOME SHEEP BITCH 

Wait... the clock on the wall... It hasn't been destroyed yet. 

But it's about to be. It's ticking down to the time it's stuck on in the future. Fourteen minutes to go. Maybe if you time it just right, you can end this whole mess in one fell slice.

You dump the now unconscious Sawbuck into the wrathtub with other Stitch's body and get ready. You've even got an ice-cold one-liner to dish out when the time comes. You've been working pretty hard on it. 

Wait for it... wait for it... 

“Hate to cut and...”

Wait, no. Not yet. Wait for it... 

“Hate to... no.”

Wait... 

“Hate to cut and DAMMIT.” Not yet. 

“Hate to cut and run.” 

You stick the cigarette holder in your mouth and choose a blade.

“SHIT. 

“Hate to... 

“Hate to...”

You barely register the sudden onset of gunfire and bodies. You are already swinging. “Hate to chop all of your heads off with this sword. Real sorry about that. My bad.”

You slay them all with your rapier wit. You even further wreck a couple clocks in the process. Feeling pleased with your progress, you check your vendetta itinerary. 

9/15 green torsos dead  
2/9 green torsos deadened twice  
1/15 green torsos dead for the first time, but it's an alternate universe torso, so you guess maybe it doesn't count(?)  
7/108 clocks gratuitously redestroyed

Just Clover (4), Eggs (12), Biscuits (13), and Cans (15) left. Plus Snowman and Lord English, but let's be reasonable here.

You grab the tub and chest and move on. That is _altogether enough_ of this nonsense.


	80. Intermission: DD: Call Spades

### Chapter 80: Intermission: DD: Call Spades

While Deuce menaces Stitch into obedience with his bull penis cane, you get Spades Slick on the radio to check up on his status. Slick says he killed Crowbar again, Sawbuck twice, and Stitch once. You ask him if it was an alternate timeline Stitch. He says he guesses so. You say that doesn't count. You've got the real one here. He mutters some foul language you can't quite make out, but you tell him never mind and hurry down to meet you at the vault. 

He says he took some damage from Snowman. You say you know. You're having some effigies made of yourselves with your backup hats. Deuce brought Slick's crumpled backup hat which he wound up with somehow. Not sure what happened to Deuce's. Boxcars is obviously tied up at the moment, so you can't get your hands on his yet. 

Slick says he's got both their hats and he'll be down ASAP. You say alright. He says in the meantime see what you can do about this eye.

Sounds simple enough. You point a rifle at Stitch. “You heard the man. Get to work, threadmonkey.” Stitch grudgingly sews up the slash in Slick's effigy.

While he does that, you start making plans for Eggs and Biscuits. You'd like to just shoot up their effigies, but you've already determined that Stitch keeps their effigies in a big warehouse several miles away because of their ridiculous duplication tendencies. Guess you'll just have to go shoot them directly.

After you find out whatever is making Slick cuss. Ornery bastard.


	81. Intermission: SS: Go Blind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Old school video game mechanics ahead.  
> Also, only 2 more chapters after this of the intermission.

### Chapter 81: Intermission: Go Blind

DAMMIT. 

Your sprite was flipped the wrong way. 

You get Diamonds on the radio and tell him to undo it and wait until you're turned around. He says it's the right eye, right? Were you facing left or right? You say it's only right when facing left. It's the left eye when facing right. He says oh, so it's the left-right eye. You say yeah, but hang on a minute, you'll turn around so it's right-left. He says ok, he'll wait.

This time the slash in your face goes away. That's better. You still have stitches on your left eye from the botched repair, but there's not much you can do about that right now.

Anyway, the biggest threat left right now should be Cans. But if Cans shows up, none of these weapons you've got are going to do any good. Your heaviest hitters are your horse hitcher and Snowman's lance.

You admire the lance for a moment. It's as long as you are and as black, with a white chevron near the base. It's a pretty sweet weapon with outstanding craftsmanship. At least you got something out of the eye-gouging. She'll have to pry this thing from your rigid severed arm if she wants it back.

You spend a moment riding around on your horse hitcher pretending to joust. "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…"

You glimpse a figure in the window, and still your movements. Of course Snowman was watching you. "...AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOHSHIT."

Once she's seen you seeing her, she fades away. You throw your hat down in disgust. You can't _believe_ she saw you horsing around like that. You will never live this down.

Time to finish this job. All obstacles taken care of, you hightail it to the vault where your crew is in a bit of a jam. Seems someone decided it would be a good idea to shoot at the chaos that is Eggs and Biscuits. That was an unbelievably terrible idea, since it just made them multiply more. The ringing and buzzing are cacophonous. Boxcars, Droog, and Deuce are all surrounded. That leaves Stitch free to make mischief. He's got a lighter in his hand and your effigies in easy reach. 

Like you're gonna let that happen. He's done you enough damage already. You charge into the fray and thrust your borrowed lance right through Stitch's chest. This is incredibly delirious biznasty.

At that moment, an explosion rocks the mansion. Guess Trace and Doze are finally dead. And now this timeline's Stitch is too, of course.

Time to put the crowbar to good use. The first thing you whack is Eggs's purple egg timer. _Fwank_. Then you pound the thing into tiny pieces until it stops ringing. You do this because of course you know that Crowbar's crowbar will destroy any temporal artifact and completely negate its effect on the timeline. Sure enough, all the extra Eggs and Biscuits disappear.

Hearts Boxcars attempts to eat Eggs' head, and succeeds overwhelmingly. 

Biscuits is looking a tad snug in his muffin tray. He thinks it's about time to poke a broomstraw in this battle. His dough will live to rise another day. 

“See you in the future, suckers!!!!!” He hides himself away in his oven. Not that that will save him.

You deal the oven a wicked flogging but not much happens. The oven doesn't really have any magical time properties to be negated. It just travels into the future at a rate of one second per second, like everyone else.

Luckily, you've got a powder monkey with you, and he's got plenty of dynamite. Clubs Deuce sets the bomb to go off in a few seconds, when both it and Biscuits are released from it in a few hours. Then he wheels it off somewhere else in the mansion so it can explode in peace.

In the future, that will be 12/15 green torsos dead. Probably some more clocks destroyed too.

Since your expert safe cracker apparently spent the last five or six hours being totally useless down here, you figure it's time to take things into your own hands. You aim your crowbar at the door of the vault.

“Nononono!”

Huh? What's this little fella in the purple hat all worked up about?

Clover insists that you reconsider! Using that to pry open the vault would be EVER so much bad luck! Like breaking a thousand mirrors all at once! The sort of mirrors that tick and have numbers and tell time and stuff. That is the worst kind of mirror to break, luckwise.

You politely ask Clover to remain calm. You might get some use of him yet.

He refuses outright and starts doing a really frisky jig! 

DOO DEE DOO DEE DOO DOO   
DOO DEE DOO DEE DOO DOO 

He begins spinning a fanciful series of riddles illuminating the true path to opening the vault. Mysterious music fills your ears as your mind assumes the shape of a pretzel. 

DOO DEE DOO DEE DOO DOO   
DOO DEE DOO DEE DOO DOO   
DOO DOO DOO DEE DOO DOO DOO   
DOO DEE DOO DEE DOO DOO 

This is how the music would sound if we were listening to it right now.


	82. Intermission: DD: Ask Clover for the Ultimate Riddle

### Chapter 82: Intermission: DD: Ask Clover for the Ultimate Riddle

You point a handgun at Clover's head and ask him to open the safe.

The little guy actually giggles. “What's this? Hee hee!” You think you can shoot Clover? He is so lucky the gun will probably jam or something predictable like that. Nice try though!

You consider this for a moment. Okay, you can work around that. You just start whacking him on the head with a newspaper instead. You don't have to be all that unlucky to get whacked around with a newspaper. It's sort of a gray area.

This isn't a real newspaper. It's just a wrapper for your private sordid literature, which no one can ever see. 

Uh oh, it's slipping out a bit. Your appetite for monochrome beauties is nearly on public display. Gotta keep a lid on that smut! Especially with Clover around.

Too late. He's ogling _The Gray Ladies_ with obvious excitement. Damn it.

Suddenly the whole vault room starts shaking. You wonder what it could be. It sounds suspiciously like Cans is about to plow through the wall Kool-Aid Man style. You pray to God that it is not Cans about to plow through the wall Kool-Aid Man style.

All of a sudden Cans plows through the wall Kool-Aid Man style. The Felt's tank is massive, making even Hearts Boxcars look like a plush toy. His fist is bigger than your head, and the former is aiming for the latter.

_“Oh No!”_

He punches you into next week. 

You find yourself going about your business a week later. Looks like you're doing a little grocery shopping. 

You're a bit confused, having no memory of the previous week. You have no idea what is on your grocery list. Are you out of milk?? What kind of produce do you need to stock up on??? It is all a little overwhelming. 

And to make things worse, the selection has too many... prices and values.


	83. Intermission: SS: Take Advantage of Distraction

### Chapter 83: Intermission: SS: Take Advantage of Distraction

Hearts Boxcars picks up Eggs' torso and flails it Cans-ward in an attempt to placate him with the red meat.

It doesn't work!!! 

Cans clocks Boxcars entirely out of the current calendar year. He lands in a totally different outdated calendar, themed with spirited horses. He'll be up to his ass in horses for a whole year. He's going to love farmin' all those goddamn horses. Better him than you.

You don't care what the consequences are. You're going to crack open this safe and be done with it. This whole intermission was starting to get a little punchy anyway. Purple lightning starts sparking as you start prying at the safe. You don't stop.

The massive release of temporal distortion from the vault transports you to a highly unfavorable timeline. Looks like the entire mansion was leveled, except for the vault and its enclosure. Everyone's dead except for you and you know who. But at least the safe's open. 

1000/1000 clocks destroyed  
14/15 green torsos dead  
3/4 black scofflaws offed

You enter the vault. There's nothing in here except an opening in the floor. There is a door with a keyhole, and you have a feeling you know how to open it. You only wonder why English's treasure would be locked behind a door with a spade on it. You guess this is what the spade key was for all this time. You dramatically wield the spade key in a matter of fact manner.

Before you insert the key, maybe you should peek inside the keyhole.

What keyhole? It was clearly a barcode scanner all along. Like the kind they sweep groceries over at supermarkets. That reminds you, you should really do some shopping next week. 

You're not going to peek inside because the lasers could blind you in one eye. OH WAIT.

This was never a problem because there is clearly a barcode printed on your Rules card for Blackjack. As well as your arm. But there's nothing wrong with a little redundancy you guess. You hold up the card and prepare to—huh?

Someone just shot a smoking hole through the barcode. You look over your shoulder. Standing in the circular opening of the safe is Snowman, holding a smoking gun. In her other hand is a whip.

You hold up her cigarette holder. “Oh are you looking for this well come and get it you contemptuous she-witch.”

She coolly cracks her whip. Snowman's black inches no doubt have been responsible for more than a few red cheeks.

Not so today. The end of her whip wraps around your upheld wrist. With a tug, she rips your arm right off your body, cigarette holder, barcode, and all. Your arm lands next to her. She places the cigarette holder in her mouth and then slams the door of the vault.

You are trapped, bleeding, and pissed. 

All you have to do is turn-ways flip your sprite so that your arm is on the other side of your body. Now your remaining arm carries the barcode. You scan your wrist and open the door. There is a circle cap with a spirograph on it covering an escape shaft. You climb down, promising Snowman all sorts of pain later for making you do this one-handed.

At the bottom of the shaft is a gray metal room with a lot of cables hanging from the ceiling. You ignore the diamond pendant on the floor and make your way over to the twelve-screen command terminal. On the only active screen is a gray-skinned boy with nubby yellow horns.

This guy again? Been a long time.

You type a quick message on the keyboard.

`>hey kid_`  
`>yeah you`


	84. Act IV: Explore the Land of Wind and Shade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving right along to Act IV. This chapter is actually John's walkabout, which can be played [here](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=003258). (Fight monsters! Hear voices! Meet salamanders!)
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ The Land of Wind and Shade (hereafter LOWAS)
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Excessive exposition (it's important)

###  Chapter 84: Act IV: Explore the **Land of Wind and Shade ******

Going through the gate is a brief moment of weightlessness, of being nowhere and doing nothing. Despite your upward movement when you entered the gate, you just kind of...materialize standing still. Above you, something like stars twinkle beneath the gray overcast. 

There is no sign of the gate. Guess there's no going back.

You take a look around you. The ground is a kind of purplish-blue stone. There's some bright teal mushrooms and leaf-less trees, too. Also, an imp, but you make quick work of it with your hammer. Man, these things aren't even a challenge for you anymore.

(>I am told your name is John. Is that correct?) Yep, that's right. And...it looks like you're still hearing voices.

Speaking of which...

“John! Can you hear me?”

“yeah nanna. where are you?”

“I am still in the house, dear! I'm afraid I cannot accompany you on your journey. But I can talk to you like this, if you ever need me to provide a puzzling half-answer to one of your questions!”

“oh, ok. thanks, nanna.”

“You should begin exploring and talking to locals! They will be able to provide you with some new insight into your quest, and may illuminate some matters on which I have remained coy to this point! HOO HOO!”

“yeah, what's up with that, nanna? did the game make you all coy and prankstery when you became a sprite or were you always like that when you were alive?”

“Oh, wouldn't YOU like to know, dear! HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO!”

“ha ha ha... ok.”

With no clue where you are, you just pick a direction and start walking. You think maybe you are going south, but that's really just a guess.

You suddenly spot a big yellow salamander, standing upright. The creature is as tall as you are, but it makes no move to attack you. So far all the imps and stuff you've had to fight have been dressed like clowns, so... maybe this guy isn't a monster? Maybe he's one of the locals Nanna was talking about.

Right where the salamander is standing, you have a choice between turning onto the path to the right, or crossing a log bridge over an oily river to the left.

You decide to converse with the not-monster to see if he has any advice, but he just says “Glub glub glub glub.” Ooooo-kay.

For no particular reason, you head north. There's another salamander further on. This one has more to say. “GLUB GLUB! Sure is windy here! Often, wind skims the voids of the Pipes, as if grazing the hollow of a cut reed, or say, a plundered Parcel Pyxis. It is a lovely sound and brings back fond memories of my childhood. Which was a couple days ago.” Then he blows a spit bubble.

You're not entirely sure what a parcel pyxis is, but you do notice some silver pipes sticking out of the rock formations around you. Some are as thin as your arm, and some are as wide as your waist. You have to wonder what they're all for.

After taking out another imp, you spot the telescopic sassacrusher just floating in the air. (>What in blue blazes is this absurd looking thing?) You have deactivated your ghost gauntlets for the time being. It gets pretty distracting flailing them around all the time when all you're trying to do is explore.

It looks like continuing in this direction will just lead you back to where you started, so you turn around and walk further north. Directly ahead is a big pipe with a white stone base and an orange mailbox flappy flag thing on the side which is sticking up.

(>How exciting! A parcel for you. Retrieve it.)

You open the cap on the pipe and get a jar of bugs.

You head west from what is probably a parcel pyxis. The second imp you come to is dressed a little strangely. Instead of the colorful harlequin attire you have become used to, it is wearing a pink shirt with puffy sleeves and what looks like a princess hat. Weird. 

A little further west, you come across another parcel pyxis. The flappy thing is down on this one. It's empty, so you stick a shoe in it. You've certainly got enough of them.

At the next pyxis, further west you get... a shoe. Huh. How about that.

You continue slaying imps, some of them dressed in pink, and checking for parcels. Over the course of the next few hours, you will acquire a cog, a chunk of amber with a bug trapped in it, a chisel, an uncarved minitablet, an elegant pipe, and an exquisite pipe.

Another salamander tells you about the moving stars.

“The stars are moving? What do you mean? What are these things you call stars? You mean the Fireflies. Why became trapped under the clouds when The Slumbering One cast a spell on them.”

The next salamander continues the story for you. “How did he cast a spell on them when he was asleep? Well, he wasn't ALWAYS asleep, you goofball! When he was awake he was asked by some really terrible guys to commission a whole bunch of Underlings. He then went about befouling our land with all this sludge, clogging up all our beautiful Pipes, and now it can barely breathe. He was sort of a huge dick. Once he tuckered himself out with all that I guess he decided to take a nap.”

You ask the salamander right next to that one about the terrible guys, because you have a feeling you're going to have to do something about them. “The terrible guys? They are a bunch of mean fellows who like to push people around. They are called Agents. They aren't usually a problem but they sure did put a spring in their step when the Heir showed up. Whoever that is. If I ever meet him I wouldn't mind punching him in the snout to... well, to accomplish some purpose I suppose. I don't know. What were we talking about?”

The next fellow to the north tells you more. “Yes, the spell! The spell I'm sure you've heard from a reliable source cannot be broken unless The Slumbering One is first woken up, and then slain. Then the Breeze will again flow through the Pipes and the Fireflies will be released and allowed to go home. But I do not envy the adventurers who will presumably take on this responsibility!”

The next salamander to the north gives you a word to call them. “As the Consorts of this Land we are predictably persecuted by dark forces, and require a hero for our salvation. Alas there is no hero in sight. Wait a minute it is you. You are the hero aren't you. Of course you are. I was so foolish to speculate otherwise through dubiously solicited monologue! DUHHHHHH!”

Didn't your nanna mention consorts at some point? Also, the situation the consorts are laying out for you doesn't sound good.

You also find out that the pipes are sacred to the salamanders, for reasons that are probably primitive and stupid. And they apparently farm mushrooms. There's a bunch of mushrooms at the end of the path.

Having reached the end of this path, you turn around and head south. You hop over the sludgy river on some rocks and find an imp in clown clothes with tentacle arms and little blobs hanging from its chin. Strange.

Speaking of strange, you find a salamander wearing a crumpled hat who has renamed himself Crumplehat.

You go eastward over an actual bridge and then south along the edge of a river. You find a salamander who offers to buy your suit for 1 boondollar. No way are you parting with your awesome Wise Guy suit.

Further south you find a salamander with a blue cruxite dowel. “I am freaking out here. Do you know what this is??? It is a huge log of Cruxite. More than I have ever seen. It is the most precious material in existence. Why if I had access to a means of producing an unlimited supply, I would be the richest salamander in the Land.” 

Maybe that's why the imps went so crazy with the cruxtruder. You're not sure why cruxite is so valuable, though. You start to get ideas about selling cruxite and making a lot of cash.

Then the salamander stops blowing bubbles and says, “Just kidding. It's completely worthless. Here, you want it? It's free.”

Darn it!

A really long trail of rocks leads you across what kind of looks like a delta. To the south is a vast expanse of black. It might just be the darkness, but that doesn't really look like water. Gross.

Safely back on land, you come across a salamander wrapped in your oil-stained bedsheet, who tells you “I am a secret wizard. Behold my robes.” You behold them, and wonder what the hell a secret wizard is. This guy is making you a little nervous. You don't think you'll ask him for your bedsheet back.

Now the path is leading you north. You find a salamander next to a pyxis. “This thing right here? You have never seen a Parcel Pyxis? Incomprehensible! Ok I'll play your pretend game for a minute. It is a receptacle connected to our network of Pipes. We use them to send stuff to different places. They are full intertwined with our customs and social practices.

“If there is something we want, we chisel it on a Minitablet and drop it in. Who receives it? Hard to say! But if you encounter a Minitablet and you possess what is chiseled on it, it is considered only polite to drop it in the Pyxis!

“Similarly, if you encounter a Parcel Pyxis that has a prize in it already, you are obligated to keep the prize for yourself! Consider it to be a gift to you from the Breeze. This is just the way things work... Whenever one of us is standing near one of these, we feel compelled to give this little speech about it.”

You think that is very helpful and also awesome. You open the pyxis to find a minitablet carved with a hat much like your father's. Having just heard the speech, you dutifully take your dad's hat from your sylladex and drop it in the pyxis. At least this hat didn't technically belong to your dad. You made it yourself.

Then you head west, and find what you are pretty sure is the first log you saw crossing the river. Guess you made a really big circle. You turn east to follow the path in a new direction. Eventually you come to some steps carved out of the rock. You are still a little wary of stairs, so you head north instead.

Past a couple more imps is another consort. “Not long ago all these Underlings stared creeping out of the pipework, and they have been a nuisance to say the least. But just a few moments ago they began spilling from the Land in greater supply, wearing more flamboyantly preposterous outfits than ever. Why you ask? On account of a series of mysterious and arcane wytchkraft-majyspelles. Ha ha just kidding. I have no idea.”

You had noticed the weird outfits. And if it just started... could it be Rose? You haven't heard from her in awhile. Maybe she's here too!

The pyxis to the east is filled with sludge instead of a prize. How disappointing. Heading north, you cross another river on a tree branch. The telescopic sassacrusher is floating just to the west of you now. Ahead of you is the biggest pipe you've seen yet, definitely big enough to fall into and low to the ground. You edge around it a little nervously.

You meet another salamander, this one holding one of the harlequin figurines that fell through the clouds. He offers to sell it to you, guaranteeing it fell from Skaia. You have no desire to carry the stupid thing around with you.

You head west over another tree branch, then north and east over a curving set of stairs. The next pyxis holds a minitablet requesting a shoe. You drop in one of your precious shoes. You hate to see it go, but you have to follow the custom and give it what the tablet asks for.

To the west you find an oil-stained statue of a frog, though the head has been knocked off. Looks like the imps made short work of it. Or judging by the damage to the stone, probably something bigger. Man these guys must really hate frogs.

The salamander standing next to the statue is in a tizzy. “Look at this! Another Cherished Idol profaned! Such sacrilege has become commonplace with the recent glut of Underlings. It would bring a tear to my eye if I were not so clearly fit to be tied with these hyperactive mannerisms and severe attention deficit oh my god look a bug.”

Looks like you've gone as far in this direction as you can go. You backtrace over the steps and tree branch to go north. A friendly salamander says, “GLUB!!! That's my way of saying go over there and check it out. 'GLUB' can basically mean anything I want it to mean. It's really cool having a bullshit language.”

Over there is a perfect spot to use your telescope. After you drop a few shoes in the nearby pyxis, you pull out your telescope to take a look. In the distance you can see a tall spire of brown rock. You trace it upwards through the clouds to see Hey that's your house! 

“nanna, are you there?”

“Yes!”

“i just saw my house form below. what gives? why did the gate take me down here?”

“All the gates do, John. To ascend, each time you must first descend!”

“huh. alright. so i guess i just scramble around down here until... uh, until what?”

“Until you find the next gate. It is hidden somewhere in the Land.”

“ok, so i get to that gate and go in. then what? where does it take me? uh... further up maybe? but i haven't even built that high yet.”

“So you see why you had to build in the first place, John? You must have a little faith in your dear old nanna!”

“yeah, well, i do nanna but i'm still not really getting it. does the next gate down here take me back up to the house or something? (please don't say hoo hoo hoo)”

“HOO. HOO HOO.”

Alright, well. You've gone everywhere that you can, except across that first set of stairs to the south. Before you get very far, though, you find another salamander with something to say. “That weird white boxy thing appeared up there a little while ago. Then it gradually became even boxier, and also taller. They say that's where the Heir lives. Who's they? Wise folk I guess. Maybe elders or something like that. Man I don't know. Also, isn't it funny how I'm sort of taking your existence here in stride? I'm treating it like it's no big deal.”

You kind of chuckle and move on. You are almost certain now that you are this “Heir” everybody is talking about, and it seems like they all expect you to solve their problems. You're willing to try, but honestly you've got your own problems. Like finding your dad, and the next gate, and winning this game.

Even though you cleared out all the imps on your way through, more have appeared. Man, what a pain.

Eventually you make it to the steps you found earlier. After just two steps, your nanna stops you. “John, this will lead you to new frontiers in this Land. Are you sure you are done with this place and ready to move on? There may have been some things you missed!”

You're pretty sure there aren't, actually. On to new frontiers!


	85. Act IV: Be Terrified by Harmless Pictograph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ AR
>   * _Where:_ Illicit ruined temple
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> suggestion of PTSD

###  Chapter 85: Act IV: Be Terrified by Harmless Pictograph

_In a future, settled askance of the present…_

...collateral desecration mars the sacred/illicit. Meaning a laser-like burst of power slices off the head of the frog atop the temple. You don't really care, since the worm-shaped sentry is aiming at you. You have to move your feet pretty quickly not to get taken out, or to drop your rocket launcher.

You launch another rocket, and by some miracle the looping path leads it to your attacker. The satisfying explosion blows the worm to bits. (You don't realize how badly you just upset the white carapacian.)

Your next rocket knocks the funny little guy with the pumpkin off his feet. The pumpkin is upended, scattering cans all over the ground. The fellow lands on his ass with the pumpkin upside down on his head. You take aim at the pumpkin and... wait.

Carved into the side of the pumpkin... that vaguely-head-like shape...

You tilt your head to the side, trying to picture it right side up. An animal snout…pointy ears…you will never forget that face.

Oh. Oh dear. Um…

You drop your rocket launcher in shock. After only a moment, you scramble down out of the temple and approach the fellow with your arms in the air.

Before he can even react to you, the shapely lady rushes at you with a black sword pointed your way. You are too startled to put up a fight. She knocks you on your back and puts her hand on your chest. Between her narrowed eyes and her huffing breath, you can tell she is enraged, but you don't know why.

The guy with the pumpkin on his head waves his measuring spear around and intervenes. He suggests you all calm down and have something to eat. You and the lady sit on some rocks while he passes around lukewarm cans of TaB, corn, peas, and gravy. You get the gravy, and break it open.

If only you had access to some means of heating things up. 

But it matters not. You warm yourselves in the glow of this human emotion called friendship.

You cautiously drink the TaB. Blech. Too warm. Need to find something to chill this down with. 

Something to heat up your delicious gravy would be nice too. You think you may know where to find such things. You excuse yourself for a moment and retrieve a few of your personal belongings from the basement of the illicit temple. These square gadgets should really impress your visitors. 

That musty old toy on the floor ought to make a nice peace offering for the feisty tall one too. You are quite certain that ladies like squishy useless things like that.

You head back outside. Your two companions have disappeared for the moment. You carefully set up your gizmos and start heating up a proper meal.


	86. Act IV: Play with Sylladex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Inside the temple
>   * _When:_ Present
> 


###  Chapter 86: Act IV: Play with Sylladex

_In the mystic ruins of an era pre-desecration…_

An ancient time capsule has blossomed. You find nested in its petals a juice-stained Sburb beta once belonging to one of your friends. 

What will you do?

You captchalogue the Sburb beta. It uneventfully tucks itself into your sylladex. You think you're getting kind of bored with this fetch modus. You like to mix it up now and then. 

Maybe you'll peruse your selection and try out another one. You swap your modus to Jenga, ejecting your sylladex in the process. Your tools, guitar, toys, and lunchtop land on the ground around you.

Looks like the time capsule has reset itself. It is sprouting a new bud. Presumably something else will come out when it blooms again in 413 years. Too bad you won't be around to find out what it is!

Your modus grabs the 18 cards needed to set itself up. It divides each card into three captchalogue blocks. You begin picking up your items, starting with your tangle buddies. The item is captchalogued, chopped into three blocks, and distributed randomly into the block tower. You gather up the rest of your items. Might as well try it out! 

You go for all the blocks containing your tangle buddies. 

Careful... careful...

You've almost got the first block when you abruptly fall asleep, knocking over the Jenga tower in the process. You wake up a moment later to find the contents of your sylladex scattered around you again. 

Yeah, that one's obviously not going to work. 

You switch to Pictionary, a choice based on a strong whim from the mysterious ethers of democracy. For this modus, you have a green card you draw the object on in order to capture it. You start by trying to grab your lunchtop. 

After you ditch an unwelcome solicitor first, that is. You don't even care who is trolling you. You've got to concentrate here!

You draw a really nice looking Squiddle lunchbox on the captchalogue scribblepad. The modus recognizes what you were trying to draw and snaps it right up. Nice going!

Ok, the envelopes are pretty important, so you go for those next. Look at these fabulous beta envelopes you just drew! Also, you are glad to get them from Dave.

Your sylladex thinks they are fabulous too! YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You do a very quick doodle of nothing in particular. The scribblepad appears to be processing the shapes, as indicated by the three squares on the bottom blinking on and off. Eventually a picture appears in full color, before fading to shades of gray.

Is that... Is that Charles Dutton?

Since you do not actually have a Dutton photo lying around, the pad captchalogues a Dutton photo ghost image. It is not a tangible item, and can never be used ever. It seems to be more of an imprint on the card itself, like a watermark. 

However, the back of the card does seem to contain a viable captcha code for a real Dutton photo, for whatever it's worth. Which is very little. You are somewhat nonplussed.

You sketch a beautiful, succulent pumpkin (yay!), knowing perfectly well that a pumpkin ghost image will be captchalogued, because you are quite sure there is not a pumpkin in this room, and there surely never will be. Sure enough, you captchalogue a pumpkin ghost image. At least you have the captcha code for it on the back in case you ever want to replicate a real one.

You flip the card over but... there's no code. “oh nooooooo”

Still a little disappointed, you start to gather up the rest of your items. You start by drawing your tangle buddies. But... it looks like it's having trouble understanding the shapes? You end up with a ghost image of some gloves with buttons or pennies where the eyes would have been. Darn! You wanted those!

You try sketching your eclectic bass. It's kind of hard to draw accurately. No, that's just a ghost image of an ordinary bass. That's not right. 

You try again, focusing on getting all the mechanical details just right. You add some extra lines and knobs... and get the ghost image of a robot. ARGH!

You turn as Bec appears behind you suddenly. OH NO BUSTED. The jig is up.

You are instantaneously returned to your bedroom without the rest of your loot. You doubt you'll have time to go back and get it. You guess you have inadvertently left your own time capsule there for whatever party may find it in the future. Lucky bastards!

You take a seat on your bed and boot up your lunchtop. You get started installing both discs. Might as well get a jump on it to avoid the sort of future drama that results from poor time management decisions.

In the meantime you decide to touch base with your pals. When you open up Pesterchum, several names are blinking: carcinoGeneticist, arachnidsGrip, and terminallyCapricious. Ugh, no, not those pals. The trollslum can just sit tight for now.


	87. Act IV: Pester Rose (and Be Ignored)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ LOWAS
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Trolls. Also, Jade being Jade.

###  Chapter 87: Act IV: Pester Rose (and Be Ignored)

Before you can take more than a few steps toward new frontiers, you decide you really want to know what's going on with Rose. You try to pester her on your serious business goggles.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] -- 

EB: rose?    
EB: are you there?    
EB: i went through the gate, nanna said you might be here too.    
EB: are you in kind of this spooky glowy place with oily rivers and stuff?    
EB: let me know ok. 

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] -- 

GG: john hi!!!!!    
EB: hi jade!    
EB: guess where i am.    
GG: are you on the ground below the clouds yet?    
EB: yeah!    
EB: wait how did you know that's where the gate goes...    
EB: did you talk to rose? can she still see me while im down here?    
EB: she won't answer.    
GG: no i havent talked to her yet but id like to soon    
GG: ive got a lot of catching up to do with all of you!    
GG: sorry ive been so scarce ive just been so busy running around like crazy and looking after my dog and stuff all day!!!!    
GG: i think he just locked me in my room actually :\    
EB: oh man.    
EB: he sounds like such a handful.    
GG: yeah    
EB: but it's ok, i think he is mostly just looking after you.    
EB: like a guardian angel or something.    
EB: if i were you i would take him out behind the woodshed and give him a big hug.    
GG: :D    
GG: hey john can you hold on i have to talk to dave and start playing this game with him    
EB: oh? what game?    
GG: sburb!!!! duh what else!    
EB: what, i thought you didn't even know what sburb was!    
GG: oh jeez i was asleep when i said that silly!    
GG: of course i know what it is    
EB: oh ok.    
EB: where did you even get it?    
GG: from the ruins    
GG: its daves copy    
EB: wow.    
EB: the thing you just said doesn't even make the slightest bit of sense.    
GG: i know right! hehehe    
GG: oh!!!!    
GG: that reminds me since im setting the game up with dave to be his server you are going to need to do the same thing for me    
EB: oh really?    
EB: this is news to me.    
GG: can you see from where youre standing the place your dads car would have fallen?    
EB: oh yeah, i think so. it'll be kind of a long walk though, this place is huge.    
GG: you should go there and get your copy of the server and set up with me.....    
GG: oh and also get your package!!!!!! :)    
EB: okay.    
EB: wait, how did you know my dad's car fell down here?    
GG: johhhhn will you stop trying to trap me!!!    
GG: you TOLD me the car fell remember?    
GG: jeeeez    
EB: jeeeeeeeeeeez!    
GG: JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZ!!!!!    
EB: ok fine well color me suspicious anyway.    
EB: miss knowitall mcpsychicpants.    
GG: john im not any more psychic than you though    
EB: ok sure i am convinced.    
EB: you have convinced me.    
EB: (PSYCHIC PSYCHIC PSYCHIC)    
EB: also i told you the package was in the car but i never mentioned that the game was there too.    
EB: so kind of totally busted i guess.    
EB: GIVE ME A P    
EB: GIVE ME AN S    
GG: hahahaha oops ok!    
GG: i mean i know lots of things but im really serious its no more information than what you have access to    
GG: but you dont know it yet    
GG: anyway we can talk more about it soon.....    
GG: i wont have to be so coy with you anymore because im pretty sure most of the stuff that was supposed to happen has already happened    
GG: i couldnt tell you about it because it would have messed it up!    
EB: ok, that is fair.    
GG: just give me a few minutes while i set up this game!    
GG: and say hi to the salamanders for me    
GG: <3

Just as the conversation with Jade ends, you get trolled. oh shiiiiit

No way! Not this guy! 

Too bad you've never figured out how to keep them from trolling you.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] -- 

CG: HEY JOHN.   
CG: CALM THE HELL DOWN.   
EB: aaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!   
EB: how did you find me?????   
CG: FIND YOU?   
CG: WHAT DO YOU MEAN.   
EB: i changed my chum handle to ditch you guys.   
EB: how did you find me?   
CG: OH.   
CG: HA HA!   
CG: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!   
CG: THIS IS THE LITTLE WORD HUMANS SAY REPEATEDLY WHEN SOMETHING TICKLES THEIR ABSURDITY PALATE, RIGHT?   
EB: uh...   
EB: lame.   
CG: WE NEVER LOST YOU.   
CG: YOUR RUSE DIDN'T FOOL US.   
CG: IT JUST SO HAPPENS WE DIDN'T PARTICULARLY GIVE A SHIT ABOUT TALKING TO YOU IN THAT TIMEFRAME.   
EB: what, the last few months?   
CG: WE HAVE THE ENTIRE CONTINUUM OF YOUR EXISTENCE TO CHOOSE FROM WHEN CONTACTING YOU.   
CG: THE PERIOD WAS UNREMARKABLE.   
CG: SORT OF LIKE YOUR WHOLE LIFE. BUT I GUESS I MEAN IT WAS ESPECIALLY UNREMARKABLE.   
CG: THIS HAS BEEN EXPLAINED TO YOU SO OFTEN IT WOULD MAKE ME SICK TO MY HUMAN STOMACH IF I HAD ONE OF YOUR HUMAN STOMACHS.   
EB: ok, this time i'll believe you that you aren't human.   
EB: because the skepticism center of my brain is starting to wear kind of thin i guess. 

Not to mention your recent introduction to things like imps and sprites and talking salamanders.

EB: but you're still a major asshole and i don't actually want to talk to you, so bye.    
CG: WAIT.    
CG: BUT I'M NOT HERE TO TROLL YOU THIS TIME.    
CG: WE'RE FRIENDS OK?    
EB: hahahahahaha!    
EB: oh man, look at this outburst of little human words i'm saying!    
EB: from my human mouth!    
CG: FINE YOU CAN THINK I'M A FUCKING DOUCHE AND MAYBE I AM BUT HERE'S THE FACT, IDIOT.    
CG: I'VE ALREADY HAD LOTS OF CONVERSATIONS WITH YOU.    
CG: IN THE FUTURE. I MEAN YOUR FUTURE.    
CG: I'VE KIND OF BEEN WORKING BACKWARDS HERE FOR A WHILE.    
CG: AND IT'S A LITTLE FRUSTRATING.    
CG: EVERY TIME I GO FURTHER BACK YOU KNOW LESS AND LESS, AND YOU DON'T REMEMBER ANYTHING I SAID BECAUSE IT HASN'T HAPPENED YET.    
CG: AND I HAVE TO REPEAT MYSELF A LOT.    
CG: AND I'M GETTING PRETTY FUCKING SICK OF IT.    
EB: that's the dumbest thing i've ever heard.    
CG: WELL IT'S NOT LIKE I MAPPED OUT THIS TROLLING ONSLAUGHT VERY WELL IN ADVANCE.    
CG: I MEAN, WHEN YOU TROLL SOMEONE YOU JUST SORT OF DO IT. YOU DON'T START DRAWING FLOWCHARTS AND DIAGRAMS AND STUFF.    
EB: wait...    
EB: you have something to do with this game, don't you?    
EB: i should have known.    
CG: OH GOD.    
CG: NOT AGAIN.    
CG: NO, FUCK NO, I AM JUST NOT GOING TO EXPLAIN THIS TO YOU AGAIN.    
CG: YOU'LL GET PLENTY OF DIRT ON ALL THIS FROM ME IN FUTURE CONVERSATIONS.    
CG: TEDIOUS CONVERSATIONS.    
CG: ONES I'VE ALREADY HAD WITH YOU.    
CG: WHERE YOUR DEMEANOR WILL GRADUALLY BECOME INEXPLICABLY AND REVOLTINGLY FRIENDLY TOWARDS US.    
CG: AND SO I GUESS IT JUST WAS KIND OF INFECTIOUS AND NOW WE'RE ALL BUDDIES I THINK.    
CG: IT'S REALLY WEIRD.    
CG: THIS HUMAN EMOTION YOU CALL FRIENDSHIP.    
EB: friendship isn't an emotion fucknuts.    
CG: SEE, THAT IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT.    
CG: YOU'RE MUCH MORE TOLERABLE A GUY THAN I THOUGHT AT FIRST, OK JOHN? 

Okay, these guys have never been anything but obnoxious to you before. You can't help getting suspicious.

EB: why are you kissing my ass?    
EB: what do you want? why don't you just tell me what's going on.    
EB: are you in the medium?    
CG: OK, FINE. YES WE ARE.    
EB: like, here in this land, with the clouds and oil and stuff?    
CG: MORE OF THIS NARCISSISM.    
CG: YOU ALWAYS THINK EVERYTHING REVOLVES AROUND YOU.    
CG: WE HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR DUMB LITTLE WINDY PLANET OR YOUR PETTY LITTLE QUESTS.    
CG: OR FOR THAT MATTER YOUR ENTIRE GAME SESSION.    
CG: YOU AREN'T THE ONLY ONES PLAYING THE GAME.    
CG: EVERY GROUP OF PLAYERS GETS THEIR OWN DISTINCT, BLANK SLATE SESSION.    
CG: AS WILL BE EXPLAINED TO YOU MANY TIMES.    
EB: so why don't you just explain it again so i know...    
EB: so i don't ask so much in the future???    
CG: NO.    
CG: FUCK THIS SHIT, JUST NO.    
CG: I'M ENDING THIS CONVERSATION BECAUSE I'VE SAID IT ALL TOO MANY TIMES.    
CG: AND BECAUSE YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND.    
CG: BECAUSE YOU ARE DUMB.    
EB: wow, yeah you're totally not trolling me, bro!    
EB: i see now we are bffs forever.    
CG: THE FACT THAT YOU ARE DUMB    
CG: IS AN IMMUTABLE FACT I AM STATING FOR THE RECORD.    
CG: IT DOES NOT MEAN ANIMOSITY IS WHAT IS TAKING PLACE HERE.    
EB: oh, ok.    
EB: so what do you want.    
CG: I NEED YOU TO TELL YOUR FRIEND JADE TO TALK TO US.    
CG: SHE WON'T ANSWER OUR MESSAGES IN THIS TIMEFRAME.    
CG: IT'S IMPORTANT.    
EB: yeah, i don't blame her for not answering.    
EB: she pretty much can't stand you guys.    
EB: because of all the trolling you did before.    
EB: remember?    
CG: OK, OUR BAD ON THAT.    
CG: JUST TELL HER WE'RE SORRY.    
CG: AND TO GET HER GROSS AND TOTALLY UNATTRACTIVE HUMAN BUTT OFF HER UGLY HUMAN HIGH HORSE AND ANSWER MY MESSAGES.    
EB: maybe.    
EB: we'll see.    
EB: i'm still not really sold on this friendship thing yet.    
EB: but i've got to go now and get on with my petty little quests.    
EB: so talk to you in the future i guess.    
EB: jerkface.

You close the window with some satisfaction. You don't feel that you came off too badly in that encounter.

The first quest you'd better tackle is finding your dad's car. You don't want anything to happen to Jade.

It looks like it's going to be a hike. The stone path you're on goes on for awhile before entering a forest of teal trees. There's something up ahead through the forest. You'd better get moving!


	88. Act IV: Pester Rose (and Be Brushed Off)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Pretty much all pesterlog, also Dave's mouth and really bad sport's metaphors

###  Chapter 88: Act IV: Pester Rose (and Be Brushed Off)

Like a certain other friend of yours, you are wondering what's up with Rose. You pester her, but, well...

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] -- 

TG: hey   
TG: will you open your laptop already   
TG: see   
TG: this is why you need a phone or something   
TG: that alerts you to important messages   
TG: instead of leaving them trapped   
TG: under three inches of fucking yarn   
TG: laptops dont need cozies   
TG: nothing needs cozies   
TG: cozy is a goddamn adjective   
TG: maybe ill crochet myself an iphone snuggly   
TG: what is this place anyway   
TG: what are you doing   
TG: i can see your whole damn house here if you want to get filled in or something im sort of the guy with the big picture here   
TG: dont make me bop you on the head with a wizard   
TG: ill do it   
TG: ok no i wont   
TG: yet   
TG: i guess ill bone up on the faq for a while   
TG: so i dont do anything stupid and deploy like 10 crux flangers and fuck up the whole game 

You dutifully open up the FAQ Rose wrote, and blanch.

TG: oh my god   
TG: so many words   
TG: do you think like the pulitzer committee is secretly scouring the dregs of the gamefaq archives or something   
TG: damn   
TG: i cant read this shit im sorry 

You are actually grateful when Jade starts pestering you.

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] -- 

GG: yo yooooooo!!!!!!!   
TG: whoa ok hey   
GG: so youre finally playing the game with rose?   
TG: yeah   
TG: but she wont answer me   
GG: shes probably just exploring im sure she will come around soon....   
GG: but its great that you got her out of there in time!!!   
TG: pretty much you have no idea how much i fuckin own at this game   
TG: i bested no less than three flaming tornados and broke a huge wizard   
GG: so how does it feel to be a BIG TIME HERO   
GG: mister braveybrave mcheropants   
TG: it feels like   
TG: i am in sports   
TG: all alone   
TG: and i am the star   
TG: its me   
TG: and then the big man comes   
GG: hehehe   
GG: but it turns out to be CRAZY what kind of basket ball this man plays!   
GG: ummmm......   
GG: the HOOP IS ON FIRE...   
GG: ok i forget how it goes   
TG: no you got it   
TG: we're good   
TG: reference secured   
GG: yes!!!!!!   
GG: so now it is my turn to be the star!   
GG: i will be your hero   
GG: its me   
TG: wait what   
GG: i installed the game!   
GG: im connecting to you as the server player   
TG: oh man   
TG: this is ridiculous   
TG: i just set this shit up with rose and now i got to do like   
TG: some double duty thing   
TG: i mean i own at the game and all but cant i just relax for half a second   
GG: dont worry!   
GG: you can keep playing with rose while i just set up a few things   
GG: i figured id get a good head start to avoid all the drama you guys are always getting into   
GG: such a bunch of drama queens!!! 

You have to read that line twice. You are no drama queen. You are a cool kid, yo!

TG: what   
TG: look i was getting my ass handed to me by my bro on the roof for like an hour and a half   
TG: i got served like a dude on butler island   
GG: (DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA)   
TG: wait does this mean theres a big meteor coming soon   
GG: yes!   
TG: when you activate the thing will it start the countdown and summon the meteor   
GG: itll come when it comes regardless of what we do   
GG: the timer really just lets you know when its coming   
TG: are you totally sure about all this   
GG: yes look here it is!   
GG: http://bit.ly/d7kXrQ 

You play along and click on the link. 

Okay, you understand the dreambot thing, but really? Really Jade?

TG: ok yes that image is definitely conclusive proof of something and is 100% understandable by anyone who looks at it   
TG: how big is this thing   
GG: it is REALLY REALLY big   
TG: like the size of rhode island or texas or what   
TG: i need some context to know how much crap i should be shitting into my pants   
GG: ok i dont actually know :(   
TG: well as if like one the size of a bus wouldnt kill me anyway   
GG: hehe yeah....   
TG: wait hold on rose is finally opening her stupid laptop   
TG: so do your thing i guess   
TG: have fun   
GG: thanks i will! <3

You are going to regret that so hard, you don't even know.


	89. Act IV: Have Fun Setting Up Dave's Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ Present
> 


###  Chapter 89: Act IV: Have Fun Setting Up Dave's Game

The discs finish loading, and you connect to Dave's client session. You have a view of the top of his apartment building. Looks like something is on fire nearby! Also, there are a lot of crows investigating a whole bunch of swords and pieces of stuffed toys scattered about.

You deploy the Alchemiter and eye the space. It's almost as if this broken air conditioning unit was scaled to be a perfect fit for the Alchemiter all along. Weird!

You navigate down to Dave's room. Looks like he's on his computer. You are not at all surprised by his appearance, because you have seen him in the clouds before. His room though, that warrants a moment of investigation. Why is everything on cinder blocks? Oh, but he has a Midnight Crew bedsheet, that's cute! And...why are there crows in his room? 

You try to deploy the Cruxtruder on top of the cords in the middle of the room, but it turns red. Seems like the crows are in your way. 

Dave starts pestering you before you can figure out how to move them. 

TG: hey wait    
GG: these darn birds are in the way!    
GG: what are they doing in your apartment anyway!!!    
GG: also they are adorable    
TG: i always keep birds in here its sort of my thing    
GG: ohhhhhhh    
GG: kind of like all those silly naked puppets are your bros thing?    
TG: no no thats irony this is like    
TG: sincere honest to god psychosis    
TG: im training to be a lame gothy supervillain    
GG: also i think i cant put it down because of the wires on the floor.....    
TG: ok    
TG: well maybe you should take the opportunity to put it somewhere that isnt stone cold retarded    
GG: i wish i played more games    
GG: this is hard!!!!    
TG: no its not    
GG: :P

You do not appreciate him judging you. Just for that, you move his bed to the roof and deploy the cruxtruder in its place.

You change your view to the living room, and replace the television with the Totem Lathe. It fits perfectly, even to holding the same red smuppet up against the wall.

This whole place is a disorganized mess. It kind of reminds you of your room but full of weird and ironic stuff instead of cute and great stuff. Your stuff is so much better. You're pretty sure all these puppets everywhere are Dave's bro's puppets. You better not mess with them. Frankly his brother makes you a little nervous.

Everything else is fair game, though. What the apartment needs is a woman's touch. You grab a towel you found lying around and dampen it with water from the toilet. This is how ordinary people clean ordinary houses, right? 

_Slosh._ Oops, you dropped it in the toilet.

No big, you'll just pick it back up and... for the expense of 2 out of 2000 build grist, you pick up the entire toilet with floor attached.

GG: oh fuck!!!!!!

You zoom out and move the toilet across the roof of the apartment. But then you fall asleep, surely dropping the toilet in the process!


	90. Act IV: Appreciate Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrestled so hard with the placement of this chapter. Feedback would be much appreciated.
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ The Land of Light and Rain (LOLAR)
>   * _When:_ A little bit ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Really annoying typing quirk, exposition on game mechanics

###  Chapter 90: Act IV: Appreciate Beauty

Everything is light.

The sky overhead is a pale blue. Golden yellow clouds that seem to be raining pink drift by. Yellow and pink reflect off the water that surrounds your home, which is situated on a white sandy island. Shimmering pastel water cascades down from nowhere to run through the house as the river in New York used to do. The overall effect is iridescently lovely, with the possible exception of the mostly intact statue of Zazzerpan that is half-buried in the sand.

You think you are going to like it here.

>Seer.  
>Seer, can you hear me?

You take a look around, but don't spot anyone. Not even Jaspers. Of course, that doesn't necessarily indicate that there is not a presence communicating with you.

“I usually go by Rose.”

>Have a look around, Rose.

You dash up the steps to the observatory and peek through the windows. It's really bright in here.

>You have much to discover.

You place your hands on the glass and squint. You don't bother preventing a smile from tugging at your lips.

>Rose, find your sprite.

Eventually you stop examining your new backyard and head down into the house. The living area is brighter than you have ever seen it, with light pouring in the window the spans the entire length of the wall. It is also somewhat more spacious, with that ghastly statue removed by Dave.

>Your deceased pet. You wished to speak with him, did you not?

You head out the door, to find that the walkway extends a little over the river before cutting off in midair, right before entering an extremely isolated rain shower. Jaspersprite is nowhere to be found. He always was a little cagey, even when he was alive.

>Is it not why you are here?

You head back around the house to stand over the waterfall. While it is certainly lovely, Jaspersprite is no fonder of water than any other cat. Vodka Mutini is staying on a ledge above you, where he is safe from the spray.

Someone is pestering you. But you are oblivious to the message because your laptop is buried under three inches of fucking yarn. 

There are footprints in the white sand.

>Follow them.

You pull out your umbrella and carefully step onto the sand. The kitten follows you. You have to pass through several isolated showers. It looks like the footprints lead out back to the mausoleum.

>Examine your pet's tomb.

The mausoleum was destroyed by the explosion. The secret passage remains. You have no idea where it leads, but it sure isn't the lab anymore.

>Enter.

This time when you climb down, the flashing light is purple or bright white, instead of green. Passing through the door at the end of the tunnel, you find yourself standing on a gray dock. At the end is a piece of rope tied to a dock post, and a martini glass.

You walk to the end of the dock and examine the rope. It seems someone has recently untied a boat. Vodka Mutini bats at the end of the rope playfully.

>A mother will do whatever is best for her children.

You're... not sure exactly what that is supposed to mean. You stare out over the water, but can see no sign of either a boat or your mother. Only light and rain.

>You guide the heir. Consult with him.

Right, John. The last you saw of him, he had a house full of ogres to deal with on his way to the first gate. You suppose you had better ascertain that he hasn't gotten himself into trouble.

You have a seat on the end of the dock. With your velvet pillow under your rear and an umbrella over your head, this is not an uncomfortable place to work. You place your laptop, still connected to the server hub, upon your grimoire and check on John. It seems he has left you a message.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] -- 

EB: rose?   
EB: are you there?   
EB: i went through the gate, nanna said you might be here too.   
EB: are you in kind of this spooky glowy place with oily rivers and stuff?   
EB: let me know ok. 

Oh John. Your vocabulary will never be erudite, will it?

TT: I guess one could use those words to describe it.   
TT: If armed with a predilection for the inapt.   
EB: bluh bluh bluuuuuhhhhh.   
EB: ok, what words would you use, miss wordypants mcsmartybluh.   
TT: Eerily iridescent?   
EB: umm...   
TT: I certainly don't see any oily rivers.   
TT: There's an ocean though.   
EB: i haven't found an ocean yet.   
EB: but i dunno, the place is really big.   
EB: it's like a whole planet down here.   
EB: oh man, which reminds me.   
EB: i just got hounded by a troll. 

You notice that your own trollslum is flashing.

TT: Yes, one of them is bugging me now.   
TT: I thought it was odd timing.   
EB: yeah well, they say they want to be friends, also they're playing sburb but like not the same session as ours or something.   
EB: oh also they're moving backwards in time, which sounds really retarded, but whatever.   
TT: Color my curiosity piqued, I guess.   
EB: yeah, i guess answer him if you want. or not. 

You magnanimously decide not to remind John that you are the giver of advice, not him. 

EB: but anyway, it's great you made it here alive and stuff!   
EB: so dave came through?   
TT: Eventually.   
TT: Pardon the envy I'm about to vent in your direction.   
EB: for what?   
TT: For finding yourself at the mercy of a rational orchestrator.   
EB: oh, haha.   
EB: yeah, i'd feel kinda weird if dave was watching me too.   
TT: You don't feel weird when I watch you?   
EB: rose i feel weird when you're just TALKING to me, when you're watching me it's just like the weird frosting on the big weirdo cake.   
TT: I can't see you now, for what it's worth.   
EB: yes i'm freeeeeeeeee :D   
EB: ok, i'm going to go over this river and through these woods.   
EB: you talk to your troll i guess.   
EB: we'll compare notes later.   
TT: Ok.   
TT: Bye, John.

Very well. Who is this bothering you?

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] -- 

GC: H3Y L4LOND3   
GC: STOP CRY1NG 1N YOUR MOMS B3V3R4G3   
GC: SH3 H4T3S YOU 4ND H4S L3FT YOU FOR3V3R   
GC: H3H3H3H >8D 

There are so many ways to respond to the opening salvo, you are not certain where to begin. Is this intended to be aggravating, or ironic, or commiserative? What response would net you the most information, while also demonstrating your superiority in psychological warfare?

TT: Now I'm confused.   
TT: On the surface, this appears to be another contrivance from a troll desperate to offend.   
TT: But John said you wanted to be friends.   
TT: And if you knew me, I suppose your remark could be construed as a ploy to elicit agreement.   
TT: And soon, rapport.   
TT: Not that it would actually work.   
GC: GOD   
GC: YOU R34LLY DO T4LK TOO MUCH   
TT: So which is it?   
GC: OOOOOOOOOH   
GC: YOUR T3XT SM3LLS GOOD   
GC: 1S TH4T L4V3ND3R 

You ponder the obvious deflection for only a moment before deciding to allow it. You have to admit, you are curious about these “aliens,” and seeking verification of what grimAuxilatrix has implied.

TT: You smell words?   
GC: YOU DONT???   
TT: Right. Aliens, I forgot.   
GC: Y3S 1TS 34SY TO FORG3T   
GC: G1V3N OUR "R4PPORT"   
GC: 4ND HOW MUCH W3 R34LLY H4V3 1N COMMON   
GC: 1 FORG3T TH4T YOU HUM4NS 4CTU4LLY COMMUN1C4T3 W1TH SP33CH 1NST34D OF R3L34SING CLOUDS OF FR4GR4NT G4S3S   
GC: 4ND SM3LL1NG 3ACH OTH3RS S3NT3NC3S   
TT: Gross.   
GC: 4H4H4H4 SO GULL1BL3   
GC: YOULL B3L13V3 4NYTH1NG 1 T3LL YOU   
GC: OF COURS3 W3 T4LK DUMMY >8] 

In truth, there is no “of course” about it, although the commonality does make logical sense. In any event, this troll's manner is still straddling the line between helpful and obnoxious.

TT: Still not sure if I'm being courted or trolled here.   
GC: 1M GO1NG TO GO W1TH TH3 LATT3R   
GC: 1 H4T3 YOU 4LL QU1T3 4 LOT   
GC: BUT 1 TH1NK   
GC: TH3 OTH3RS W1LL 3V3NTU4LLY R34L1Z3 TH4T 1TLL B3 MUTU4LLY B3N3F1C14L FOR US 4LL TO WORK TOG3TH3R 

_Mutually_ beneficial? If you are playing separate sessions, as John relayed, in what ways could you help each other? You could exchange information, you suppose. But why would that happen eventually, instead of now when you know so little about the game? And how did they find and contact you, for that matter? You still have so many questions, and you have the feeling that asking GC outright will earn you nothing but mockery.

GC: 4ND SO TH3YLL PROB4BLY B3 4LL FR13NDLY L1KE L4T3R ON   
TT: By later on, you mean now?   
GC: Y34H   
GC: TH4TS PROB4BLY WH4T JOHN W4S H34RING   
GC: 4ND M4YBE TH3YLL 3V3N M34N 1T 4ND W4NT TO B3 FR13NDLY   
GC: BUT 1 1NT3ND TO ST4Y P1SS3D 4T YOU FOR3V3R   
GC: 3V3N 1F 1 S33M H3LPFUL   
TT: Then you're in luck.   
TT: Because you don't.   
GC: H3H3 NO BUT 1 W1LL BE   
GC: TH3 F4CT TH4T 1 W1LL B3 H3LPFUL   
GC: 1S 4N 1MMUT4BL3 F4CT 1 4M ST4T1NG FOR TH3 R3CORD   
GC: 1T DO3S NOT M34N FR13NDSH1P 1S WH4T 1S T4K1NG PL4C3 H3R3   
TT: John was told you were moving backwards through time.   
TT: Was he gullible to believe this?   
TT: Or is the fact that I'm asking just further indication of my own gullibility?   
TT: Feel free to continue shifting the definition of the word to suit your convenience.   
GC: W3 H4V3NT 3V3N B33N T4LK1NG TO YOU FOR LONG   
GC: L1K3 4 F3W M1NUT3S FROM MY P3RSP3CT1V3   
GC: 1F TH3R3 4R3 SOM3 OF US WHO D3C1D3D TO ST4RT T4LK1NG TO YOU 4T TH3 3ND OF YOUR 4DV3NTUR3 R1GHT OFF TH3 B4T   
GC: 1NST34D OF 4T THE B3G1NN1NG L1K3 WH4TS LOG1C4L   
GC: TH3N TH4TS TH31R STUP1D BUS1NESS   
GC: 1M ST4Y1NG L1N34R   
GC: C4US3 W31RD T1M3 STUFF G1V3S ME A H34D4CHE   
GC: OH 4LSO 1TS PO1NTL3SS 

Well, if nothing else, you can agree with that line of reasoning.

TT: Alright, let's continue milking my human gullibility and say I believe you. You're the sensible one who's decided to communicate with us in linear lockstep with our timeline in order to help us out.   
TT: How can you help me?   
GC: YOU JUST 3NT3R3D YOUR M3D1UM R1GHT   
TT: Yes.   
GC: OK   
GC: DO3S 1T S33M L1K3 TH3R3 1S A SUBTL3 VO1C3 1N YOUR H34D URG1NG YOU TO DO TH1NGS   
TT: Yes. 

Now that you think about it, you really hope that voice is not a troll. You're pretty sure you don't trust them that much.

TT: It's not so subtle, actually.   
GC: Y3S!!!!!!! >8O   
GC: FOR M3 TOO 1T W4S MOR3 LOUD 4ND CL34R TH4N FOR TH3 OTH3RS   
GC: YOU S33 W3 4R3 M34NT TO B3 B3ST H4T3FR13NDS FOR3V3R   
TT: A beautiful soulgrudge this cosmic was surely authored by the constellations. 

You wish there was some way you could convey your sarcasm over text. GA implied she was starting to understand the concept, but you have no idea if GC does as well.

GC: TH3Y 4LL THOUGHT 1 W4S CR4ZY   
GC: BUT H4H4H4 1T TURN3D OUT W3 4LL W3R3 1N OUR OWN W4YS   
GC: TH4T H3LP3D US R34LIZ3 TH3 P4RTICUL4R D3ST1N13S THE G4M3 PUT TOG3TH3R FOR US   
GC: 1N TH3 VOC4BUL4RY OF L1K3   
GC: TH3 HYP3R FL3XIBL3 MYTHOLOGY 1T T41LORS TO 34CH PL4Y3R GROUP 

Now this is more like it. Information about the game that you can investigate. And corroborate with other sources, of course. Even so, you seek to elicit a few more details about your “destiny.”

TT: You mean, for instance...   
TT: If a player were to learn she was a "Seer"?   
GC: Y34H 3X4CTLY! S33R OF M1ND P4G3 OF BR34TH KN1GHT OF BLOOD M41D OF T1M3   
GC: 3TC 3TC 3TC   
GC: 12 FOR US BUT OBV1OUSLY 4 FOR YOU   
GC: 3V3RY S3SS1ON 1S D1FF3R3NT   
TT: And this voice?   
GC: OH Y34H   
GC: 1TS 4N 3X1L3   
TT: Exiled from what?   
GC: 1T TOOK US FOR3V3R TO F1GUR3 TH1S OUT   
GC: B3C4US3 TH3Y 4R3NT M34NT TO B3 4N OBV1OUS 4SP3CT OF TH3 G4M3   
GC: TH3YR3 ON YOUR D34D PLAN3T   
GC: JUST L1K3 TH3YR3 ON OURS   
GC: Y34RS 4FT3R 1TS R3CKON1NG   
GC: TH31R ROL3 1S TO H3LP YOU ON YOUR QU3ST 1N SOM3 W4YS   
GC: TH3 OBV1OUS W4Y 1S BY D1R3CTLY GU1DING YOUR 4CT1ONS   
GC: BUT M4YB3 TH3 MOR3 1MPORT4NT W4YS 4R3 TH3S3 L1TTL3 TH1NGS TH3Y DO PROB4BLY W1THOUT 3V3N R34L1Z1NG 1T   
GC: 4CT1ONS TH4T COMPL3T3 LOOPS 1N TH3 T1M3L1NE   
GC: COGS 1N P4R4DOX SP4C3   
TT: Paradox space?   
GC: OH H3LL   
GC: L1ST3N TH3 UN1V3RS3 W1LL 34T P4R4DOX3S FOR BR34KF4ST   
GC: 4ND SO W1LL TH1S G4M3   
GC: G3T US3D TO 1T   
GC: BY NOW YOU SHOULD R34L1Z3 TH1S WHOL3 M3SS W4S 4 B1G S3LF FULLF1LL1NG CLUST3RFUCK   
GC: A HUG3 ORG14ST1C MOB1US DOUBL3 R34CH4ROUND   
TT: I'm starting to see that.   
TT: So the exiles are on Earth? Does that mean our goal is to get back there too? To resurrect it somehow?   
GC: NO NO NO   
GC: S33 1RON1C4LLY TH3Y G3T TO DO TH4T   
GC: 4FT3R TH3YR3 DON3 H3LP1NG YOU TH4T 1S   
GC: YOUR JOB 1S OF GR34T3R CONS3QU3NC3 TO S4Y TH3 L34ST   
GC: BUT P4RT OF TH31R JOB 1S TO R3BU1LD L1F3 4ND C1V1L1Z4T1ON TH3R3   
GC: 4ND 1F TH3YR3 SUCC3SSFUL 1N THOUS4NDS OR M1LL1ONS OF Y34RS TH3 T3CHNOLOGY 1S UN34RTH3D 4ND TH3 PL4N3T 1S R1P3 FOR S33D1NG 4LL OV3R 4G41N   
TT: You never answered the question. Where were they exiled from?   
GC: FROM TH3 TWO K1NGDOMS 1N TH3 1NC1P1SPH3R3   
GC: 3XP4TR14T3D DUR1NG TH3 R3CKON1NG   
GC: FORM3R 4G3NTS   
TT: What are agents?   
GC: 1 TH1NK   
GC: TH1S W1LL B3 MOR3 CONSTRUCT1V3   
GC: 1F 1 CONT4CT YOU 4G41N 1N 4 L1TTL3 WH1L3   
GC: WH3N YOU KNOW MOR3   
GC: 4ND 1 DONT H4V3 TO 3XPL41N SO MUCH   
TT: When?   
GC: 1N 4 COUPL3 OF S3CONDS   
GC: FOR M3   
GC: BUT NOT FOR YOU   
GC: SUCK3R 

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] –- 

While GC's attitude is a bit off-putting, in truth you could use some time to cogitate on the information the troll divulged.


	91. Act IV: Introduce New Friends to John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ WV
>   * _Where:_ Near the ruined temple
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 


###  Chapter 91: Act IV: Introduce New Friends to John

The yellow bandaged fellow seems to have slogged off somewhere. But the tall mail carrier with the lovely white complexion would probably get a kick out of your big computer with the weird boy on it. 

You show her inside your station.

The hole blown into the the station by the caution guy's rocket leads into the third room, which had been locked. Unsurprisingly there is another sort of gizmo in here and you have no idea what it does. Rather than a big black screen, the spirograph button on the counter sits in front of a purple wall. To the left side is a frog between two small spirographs, with a knob pointing to the one on the right. To the right side is a large spirograph with a power bar beneath it.

The station is very low on power so you don't think you'll be able to find out what this gizmo does.

You head through the room to the door in the middle of the station, and you unlock the third room from the inside. You go to the computer room and lead the mail carrier to the screen. 

There he is! The funny boy you were talking about. His name is John. He has changed clothing since you saw him last, and is standing in a darker location.

You encourage your alabaster friend so say hi to him using the human keypad communication system. But instead she takes note of your nice chalk drawings of planets on the walls and pays you a compliment. You are somewhat mystified by the fact that she is be more impressed by your silly drawings than your amazing technology. 

Maybe simple things are the key to the heart of a lady. You do not know because you do not know anything about ladies really. They are a riddle draped in a mystery wrapped in post-apocalyptic shroudwear.

You decide to give her the chalk. She is grateful for the colorful present and thinks it looks like fun.

You do not notice John on the screen attacking an imp, nor Serenity blinking a message: -.—  .-  -.--!!!

Suddenly a powerful aroma hits your nonexistent nostrils. Someone is cooking something delicious. It demands investigation. You follow the scent back out of your station, leaving the pale madame behind.


	92. Act IV: Warily Type Commands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is somewhat…meh, but it's still important.
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ PM
>   * _Where:_ Inside WV's mobile station
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 


###  Chapter 92: Act IV: Warily Type Commands

Left alone for the moment, you stop and examine the kind mayor's device. It is quite similar to the one in your station, before the unfortunate accident. The one with the familiar looking girl on it. You are still somewhat wary. Perhaps this one is best left alone. 

Still, there is something familiar about the boy on this monitor too. And if your new friend has been using it successfully... perhaps it will be alright.

`>I am told your name is John. Is that correct?`

It seems that it is..

`>It's nice to meet you, John.`

John isn't directly cognizant of your greeting, but I'm sure he would feel likewise.

`>Ok, John. Let's explore this place!`

You follow along as John wanders around a place that looks very familiar. Occasionally you type a command, which he seems to follow despite not replying to you.

You especially love it when he checks the parcel pyxes.

`>How exciting! A parcel for you. Retrieve it!`

`>Introduce yourself to the local amphibious fauna.`

You like that he is open and kind to the salamanders. You've met people who were less tolerant of unusual people.

`>This one's empty. Perhaps a delivery is in order?`

`>This is great! Something is in there. Take a look.`

He got a minitablet!

`>There is nothing inside. Should we put something in?`

`>Hooray! This one contains a prize! Another success for the postal system.`

`>Open it! Open it!!!`

`>Converse.`

Finally John comes to a small plateau. You type `>A good place to keep lookout?` and watch in satisfaction when he pulls out an optical device. 

Eventually John makes his way out of that area, and you recall your companions. You wonder if they are getting along. 

You make your way back outside to find that someone has started a fire using crates and ammunition. Both of your new acquaintances are sitting next to it, eating something that did not come out of a can. The mayor is partaking of vegetables, while the judge has a roast chicken in one hand and a hambone in the other. Strangely happy little fruits dance around their feet. Your companions look up and notice you. The guy in yellow offers you a soft toy that untangles into two pieces, each with black eyes, a wide smile, and tentacles. 

You are vaguely reminded of something. It's hard to remember. It was so many years ago... 


	93. Act IV: Discover Something Illegal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ AR?
>   * _Where:_ LOWAS
>   * _When:_ Sometime around the present
> 


###  Chapter 93: Act IV: Discover Something Illegal

_So many years ago, entrenched in the temporally oblique…_

While making your rounds, you came across a scene requiring investigation. To be specific, an illegally parked vehicle. 

An automobile has apparently crashed into a tree. It looks as though it fell from the sky. Smoke rises from the crumpled frame, and shattered glass litters the ground.

You sure hope this guy's got a swollen porkhollow. He just landed himself in citation city. You may be wearing motley attire and a princess' cap, but you take your job seriously.

The first order of business is to surround the scene with caution tape. The pipes in the ground and the fallen tree trunk make good places to hold the tape. This looks much more orderly. Public safety has been assured. Your sworn duty as an Authority Regulator has been upheld.

Your next step is to write the owner of this vehicle a ticket. You pull the purple parking citation for 10,000 boondollars from your stash, and tuck it under the windshield wiper. When you do, you notice something inside the vehicle.

Hello. What have we here?

You discover a couple of unauthorized parcels in the cabin of the vehicle. You confiscate the green box and brown envelope immediately.

You look up as someone approaches you. You are treated to an attractive sight.


	94. Act IV: Acquire Package

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ PM?
>   * _Where:_ LOWAS
>   * _When:_ Sometime around the present
> 


###  Chapter 94: Act IV: Acquire Package

You are a simple Parcel Mistress on one of your routes. Today is another day of uneventful but highly satisfying deliveries. Even so, the big yellow sack over your shoulder is not yet empty.

You stop in your tracks on the way to another parcel pyxis. Through the branches of the tree next to you, you can see a dangerous agent from the enemy kingdom. Perhaps you should avoid him.

But you notice he is holding two parcels. You recognize one of them, having been asked to deliver it. You have spent a long time looking for it. It looks like you are going to need to get that package from him somehow. You conclude you have no choice. You will march right up to him and ask politely for the package. 

The parcel pyxis next to you opens and expels a carved minitablet. Wait a minute... What's this?

You pick it up to examine it more closely. The carving is not especially clear to say the least. Even the sender, "john," admits that it is “crappy.” But your wealth of delivery experience allows you to decipher it immediately. It is the other parcel the agent is holding. It appears you will need to acquire both from him now. It is your sworn duty.

You cannot menace him into handing over the packages. You do not have a sword. You are quite sure it would never occur to you to carry a sword or resort to violence under any circumstance. You will have to take a more diplomatic route with this fellow.

You approach him peacefully, and he doffs his hat to you so furiously that he is in danger of starting a hat fire. You'd rather he didn't start any fires with all this oil around, and besides, you have a query to make. You politely ask for both parcels.

He cannot give them to you. They are illegal contraband, and if you wish to petition for their release, you must consult with his superiors.

You show him the carved minitablet. As he can plainly see, you have signed authorization to deliver one of the parcels. He gives you the envelope. But he retains the green package and goes on his way.

You quickly drop the envelope into an empty pyxis. It is out of your hands now. The Breeze will know where to take it.

That done, you peer down from the top of a hill. You find and follow the agent. You must not lose track of that parcel.


	95. Act IV: Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ PM
>   * _Where:_ Outside the ruined temple
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 


###  Chapter 95: Act IV: Remember

It is a clear and peaceful night. A delicious meal has been shared with new friends. You set your new cuddly toy on the pumpkin next to you as you ate. The glow of the ammunition fire gradually subsides, allowing you to more clearly pick out the stars in the black sky above. All is well. 

But you can't shake the feeling there is something familiar about all this. There is something you are forgetting.

As you look around, you spot a faded symbol on the side of the headless monument: a spirograph. Of course. Now you remember. You must deliver a message to John right away.

You get to your feet and scurry back into the mayor's station. Behind you, the two males exchange glances at your whimsy.


	96. Act IV: Go Over The River And Through The Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ LOWAS
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Death and destruction to helpless critters, stable time loops

###  Chapter 96: Act IV: Go Over The River And Through The Woods

As you enter the woods, you pause on the top of the stairs heading down. Below you is a salamander village, and it is being attacked! Huts are on fire, and there are tar basilisks and a copper giclops menacing the locals. The former look like six-legged lizards with really wide, sharp-toothed mouths. The latter is as big as the ogres, with only one eye, and rhinoceros horns on top of its head.

You equip the wrinklefucker. No way are you letting this happen!

You leap into the fray and start laying about. Sons of bitches are harder to kill than you thought they'd be. Their health meters have barely dropped at all. You activate the ghost gloves for good measure, but you're still not doing a whole lot of damage to any of your foes.

Then the giclops takes the sassacrusher right out of your ghost glove! Oh, man, not good! Even less good is when you lose your footing and somehow end up in a tar basilisk's extra wide mouth.

HEEELLLLPPP!

_BLAM!_

From the trees, a huge gun fires!

You sit on your ass, blinking in surprise at all the grist surrounding you. Only the heads of the basilisks remain. Your face and suit are splattered with oil. What?

Another shot hits the giclops in the eye. It roars in pain and absconds, your giant hammer still in hand. Aw, man!

You think you briefly see the silhouette of a man, an adventurer, if you will, before he turns away. A safari helmet is on his head, a rocket launcher on his shoulder, and an extremely weighty tome under his arm.

You blink. You could have sworn that strange man was holding your copy of _Colonel Sassacre's_.

You get to your feet, thinking about chasing after him. You have some questions for that guy, whoever he is. 

But the village is still burning. You've got to help these salamanders put out this fire. Thank goodness for your Barbasol bomb. You lob it at the nearest burning hut. The cooling lather should work its magic in no time...

_BOOM!_

You flinch away from the sudden explosion in horror. OH GOD HOW CAN SHAVING CREAM BE SO FLAMMABLE? Now even more stuff is on fire!

A big gust of wind conveniently comes along and blows out all the fire. 

It is really convenient.

The townspeople rejoice and are more than willing to give you all the credit. You suspect it is probably because they are not all that smart. They crowd around you, lifting you above their heads and blowing happy spit bubbles.

>John, the uncarved tablet you received. Do you still have it?

Why yes, it appears you do.

>Great! I would like you to carve something on it.

You seem amenable to this request. It's a little wobbly up on top of all these dancing lizards though. Not that it matters because you suck at drawing anyway. You draw a square and then put a spirograph inside it. You sign your name at the bottom. You will drop this in the next parcel pyxis you find.


	97. Act IV: Scold Jade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ A few minutes ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Toilet-related shenanigans, ironic slash, Dave's dirty mind

###  Chapter 97: Act IV: Scold Jade

While Jade starts doing her thing, you make another futile attempt at reading Rose's walkthrough. Just... you really can't read this. You pester Rose again instead.

TG: do you think like the pulitzer committee is secretly scouring the dregs of the gamefaq archives or something    
TG: damn    
TG: i cant read this shit im sorry    
TT: Hold please.    
TG: hold what    
TG: i see you at your computer typing    
TG: what are you doing    
TG: dang    
TG: hold on    
TG: no seriously stop talking to me for a second it looks like jade is dropping the doomsday tube thingy in my room    
TG: brb gotta make sure she doesnt break all my shit

You start typing to Jade, attempting to stave off the inevitable shenanigans.

TG: hey wait    
GG: these darn birds are in the way!    
GG: what are they doing in your apartment anyway!!!    
GG: also they are adorable    
TG: i always keep birds in here its sort of my thing    
GG: ohhhhhhh    
GG: kind of like all those silly naked puppets are your bros thing?    
TG: no no thats irony this is like    
TG: sincere honest to god psychosis    
TG: im training to be a lame gothy supervillain    
GG: also i think i cant put it down because of the wires on the floor.....    
TG: ok    
TG: well maybe you should take the opportunity to put it somewhere that isnt stone cold retarded    
GG: i wish i played more games    
GG: this is hard!!!!    
TG: no its not    
GG: :P

You check back on Rose, to find she has finally actually replied.

TT: Jade is connected with you?    
TT: Where did she get the discs?    
TG: i dont know how does she do any of the loopy batshit nonsense she does    
TG: maybe she pulled them out of the volcano over there on bloodmonkey mountain    
TT: Wait.    
TT: So you mean to tell me she was able to connect with you in a timely fashion, without waiting until you were on the brink of annihilation?    
TG: we went over this    
TG: i was a little bogged down    
TG: in the epic swaddle of legendary puppet taint    
TT: I've done nothing but wait for boys to play this game with me all day.    
TT: First John lollygagging with the client, and then you with the server, downright filibustering my existence with unending fraternal melee.    
TT: And yet a girl, one who didn't even own the game, was able to connect with you minutes after you connected with me. 

Before you can come up with a burning retort, you hear a noise behind you.

TG: whoa wait    
TG: what the hell is she doing    
TG: shes taking my bed what the hell 

As you ~~gape~~ watch in disbelief, your bed vanishes.

TT: And there she goes.    
TT: She HAS the karma.

Ugh. Time to change the subject.

TG: so seriously what were you doing just now    
TT: I was talking to someone.    
TG: who    
TT: You remember the trolls?    
TG: yeah    
TT: One of them messaged me, so I indulged him/her/it for a moment.    
TG: oh i see you opted to chat up one of those dbags instead of talk to the guy who saved you from a swirling shitstorm of angry flaming wizards    
TG: i was worried your priorities might have been out of whack but no i was dead wrong    
TT: I also took a moment to check on John.    
TG: how is he    
TT: I can't see him anymore. Just his empty house.    
TT: But I did talk to him briefly.    
TG: i should probably text him soon    
TG: see whats up    
TG: because    
TG: i love him    
TT: I know.    
TG: so this place youre at now    
TG: its the same place hes at right    
TT: It's hard to say for certain.    
TT: But I think I like it here.

You should probably check in with Jade, but... you don't even want to know what else Jade might be doing to your apartment. 

Then a toilet drops through your ceiling and lands on the Cruxtruder. The timer on the gizmo shows 4:13. An orange ball of flashing light pops out. Good thing you're wearing your shades, or that thing would probably give you a seizure or something.

Anyway, you'd better give Jade some grief about dropping a toilet in your room in the worst possible place. You fire up your iphone and let her have it.

TG: this is the worst shitting thing ive ever seen    
TG: the thing that just happened    
GG: hi dave!!!!    
TG: jesus    
TG: and the worst thing is    
TG: all that juice i drank    
TG: i mean    
TG: you just HAD TO FIGURE all that juice was going to come back to haunt me    
TG: like frankensteins incontinent fucking ghost    
TG: it was like    
TG: chekhovs juice    
GG: hehehe what??    
TG: let me be perfectly clear    
TG: what i am trying to say is    
TG: its like fucking christmas up in my bladder here    
TG: and where do i find my toilet    
TG: oh look here it is    
TG: amputated in my room    
TG: gagged with a towel like a fucking prison hostage    
TG: and now the cruxploder is counting down 

You glance at it, but the numbers haven't changed.

TG: 4 hours oh i guess thats not that bad    
GG: 4 hours until what?    
TG: what    
TG: oh god    
TG: are you asleep

Please say no please say no please say no

GG: ummm....    
GG: i................    
GG: i think i might be! 

Dammit.

TG: ok    
TG: ok lets just    
TG: not panic here    
GG: im not panicking i feel fine!    
TG: lets try to play it cool    
TG: and not break all my shit    
TG: also dont put anything weird in the seizure kernel    
TG: im going to go find somewhere to pee    
TG: dont watch me ok    
GG: <_<;    
TG: like i know you dream about me enough already    
TG: lets keep some shit left to the imagination ok    
GG: i wont look ok jeez!!!!!    
TG: the last thing i need is for your weird brain webcam to be snapping shots of my dong    
TG: your grandpa was a sick fuck why would he build a voyeurbot for a little girl    
TG: fuck    
GG: stop being a huge baby and go peeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!! 

You remember the empty apple juice bottle. You begin to hatch a brilliant plan. Once you're done you'll captchalogue the bottle and send the code to Egbert and tell him it's something really important. Then he'll make it and be like, oh man yes apple juice I am so thirsty!!! But he will not be drinking delicious juice, oh no. He will be choking down a world of hot piss and it will serve him right for liking all those dumbass movies unironically.

But that all sounds like a big waste of time so you just go in the shower, after you toss the puppet out of it. Don't need no audience.


	98. Act IV: Put Something Weird in the Seizure Kernel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Time shenanigans, dead animals, very minor self-harm

###  Chapter 98: Act IV: Put Something Weird in the Seizure Kernel

You navigate down to the lower roof to retrieve the Sburb discs that you are currently playing on. They have to get to you somehow, and if you leave them here they never will!

Next to the discs is a sight that makes your eyes tear up. There is a poor, dead bird impaled with a sword. The sword is bigger than the bird, for crying out loud! That's just cruel. 

GG: oh nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
GG: :(  
GG: dave  
TG: what  
GG: :(  
TG: what is it  
GG: dave this poor bird  
TG: what bird  
GG: the one with the sword through it!!!  
TG: i wouldnt know anything about that  
GG: but isnt this your sword?  
TG: that could be anyones sword  
GG: :|  
TG: what does it look like  
TG: is it a cheap piece of shit  
TG: cause i only bother with high quality blades  
TG: forged by stoic asian masters  
TG: hells of rude kinds of expensive  
GG: all i know is........  
GG: its sharp and its through a bird and its a sword  
GG: end of story!!!!!!  
GG: i am going to help the poor bird  
TG: wait  
TG: what do you mean  
TG: dammit hold on a minute

Paying his protests no heed, you decide to bring the bird back up to Dave's roof with the discs. Then you take the dead bird and drop it in the waiting seizure kernel in Dave's room. The screen flashes, and the kernel transforms into a a bird's head with a sword through it from one side to the other. 

For some reason, Dave is not happy about your choice. He kinda loses his cool over it, getting all scowly and stuff. 

TG: wow awesome  
TG: so now i guess instead having of a wise or helpful spirit guide sprite thing  
TG: im stuck with this brainless feathery asshole  
GG: what do you mean i just brought the cute birdie back to life!!!  
GG: isnt he great?  
TG: we need to wake you up  
TG: youre not very logical like this  
TG: kind of dumb really  
GG: gosh im SOOOO SOOOORRY!!!!!!!!  
GG: i was tired!  
TG: yeah but come on you sleep like 20 hours a day  
GG: well you are out of luck.....  
GG: i will wake up when im good and ready!

Honestly, you tend to have a lot more fun when you are dreaming, anyway! You don't know why Dave has to make such a big deal out of it. 

TG: where are you sitting  
TG: are you on your bed  
GG: yes why  
TG: what side  
GG: ummmmmm....  
GG: the right side...  
GG: why??  
TG: ok heres what i want you to do  
TG: just humor me  
TG: raise your left hand  
GG: okaaay......  
TG: now  
TG: just kind of swat the air to your left  
GG: …

_Ow!_

You wake up on the floor next to your bed, with your left cheek stinging as if slapped with a metal arm. Sure enough, your dreambot is sitting on your bed with your computer. 

Dave sure can be mean sometimes. 


	99. Act IV: Become Mayor of Exile Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ WV
>   * _Where:_ Beside temple ruins
>   * _When:_ Years in the future
> 


###  Chapter 99: Act IV: Become Mayor of Exile Town

As the pretty mail lady runs off without an explanation, you and the grumpy guy next to you exchange glances. _WOMEN_.

Having shared a brief moment of bonding, you invite him to share in something near and dear to your heart: Can Town.

You build a bigger and better town to preside over at the foot of the temple. You use not only cans, but mailboxes and smiling fruits and basically everything either of you can get your hands on. All expatriates are welcome, no matter what happened in the past, regardless of professional persuasion or metallurgical affiliation. You cut the town's ribbon with an official judicial bayonet, which is stuck inside a grenade but you are kind of nervous about removing it. 

This should catch the eye of the tall nice lady. 

The grumpy yellow guy thinks this is dumb.

He thinks it is dumb because any town without a proper militia is as good as conquered. 

As such he prepares one begrudgingly out of ammunition in every size. It's a dirty job, but someone must be charged with the defense of the innocent.

The stars twinkle over the freshly christened Exile Town. It is a beautiful evening and the future is so full of promise you can't imagine what could possibly—oh my god a huge eggy looking thing just appeared in the sky. It has that green house shape on the side.

It drops to the ground next to your the coals of your campfire, making you and the grumpy yellow guy jump. 

_EGG!_


	100. Act IV: Get Stuff Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 100 and we're only a quarter of the way through Act IV. This should feel like more of a milestone than it is.
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Your apartment
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Friends giving each other a hard time (they love each other really)

###  Chapter 100: Act IV: Get Stuff Done

Once Jade is awake (you think, anyway. At least she's acting like she knows what's going on now), you start the game for real. Jade delivers the punch card—looks like an egg—and you make a totem. Then Jade puts the totem on the Alchemiter while you climb the stairs to get back to the roof. You notice that the area is strangely empty of all your crap, before a big red bird appears on the Alchemiter and then...

_EGG!_

The egg is shiny and red and at least two feet across. It is also out of your reach, since the Alchemiter is on top of the air conditioning unit that is taller than you are.

With a sigh, you get back on your phone to message Jade again.

TG: oh man    
TG: awesome    
TG: its awesome where you put that    
TG: i was worried we were on the verge of getting some shit done    
GG: duuurrrrr dave i was going to build some stairs up there durrrrrhhhhhh    
TG: well where are they    
TG: you say there will be stairs    
TG: and yet    
TG: i see no stairs    
GG: gosh i dont know i guess i didnt find the time to make them because i keep getting punched in the face by robots and stuff!!!!!!!    
TG: sorry    
GG: ;p    
TG: am i supposed to break that thing    
TG: or hatch it    
TG: or what    
GG: i dont know!    
TG: also what happened to all my shit    
TG: the stuff scattered all over the roof    
TG: did you put it somewhere    
GG: nope....    
TG: i mean not that i care    
TG: it was a lot of mostly useless garbage    
GG: what was it doing up here?    
TG: i was going to use it to fight my bro with    
TG: but i guess i forgot in the heat of battle    
TG: also he was too fast

You start contemplating making the world's largest omelet. 

_Ca-caw!!_

Whoops, looks like that dumb idea isn't going to happen! A brainless feathery asshole swoops down and carries the egg away. By which you mean your useless sprite. You track its flight to the top of the radio tower on your roof, way above your head. Well, that answers the question of where all your stuff went.

Yeah, no way are you getting that back without help. You update Jade pronto.

TG: ok so    
TG: the egg is now in a nest made of shitty swords and soft puppet ass    
TG: please advise    
GG: i think your sprite wants to hatch it!    
GG: awww    
TG: do you think thatll take more than four hours    
GG: hmm...    
GG: i dont know it looks like its pretty warm where you are    
TG: its hot as the sizzle side of the steak    
GG: maybe not too long then????    
GG: i guess we'll find out! 

Yeah, that idea sounds like shit. This is your life we're talking about here.

TG: maybe i should try to get it back    
TG: and put it in the microwave    
GG: :(

Jade takes exception to your idea, and rudely drops the microwave full of puppets out the window before getting back to work.


	101. Act IV: Spend Dave's Grist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Time shenanigans, game mechanics

###  Chapter 101: Act IV: Spend Dave's Grist

Having made it impossible for Dave to microwave anything in the near future, helpless eggs or otherwise, you check out the rest of the gizmos you can deploy. You'd like to deploy the Punch Designix, but you'll need some shale for that. Right now all you've got is 1998 build grist.

You take a look at the other gizmos. The Jumper Block Extension costs 1000 build grist, the green and white CD costs 100, and the red Punch Card Shunt costs 10. The Holopad, on the other hand, costs 10,000, and the Intellibeam Laserstation (an extremely complicated looking machine) costs 100,000.

GG: ok some of these things we can deploy but some things we dont have nearly enough grist for!    
TG: you mean the jumper block thing    
GG: no no weve got enough for that.....    
GG: but its still pretty expensive    
TG: wait what    
TG: the thing costs 1000 for me    
GG: yeah me too!    
GG: and we have 2000 to work with    
GG: ok 1998 ._.    
TG: what    
TG: man i only got 200 to splash around with in roses rainbow world    
TG: what the hell    
GG: ohhh...    
GG: how much did rose start with? when she was playing with john?    
TG: hang on ill ask    
GG: k    
TG: she says 20    
GG: i guess we keep getting more with each server/client connection!    
TG: yeah    
TG: so i guess you can buy everything now    
GG: no!!!!    
GG: i cant buy the holopad thingy and the intellibeam laserstation    
TG: ok now i know youre making this shit up    
GG: hahahaha no theyre right here!    
GG: they cost a fortune    
TG: well all i got here is the designix which i cant deploy cause i dont have any purples    
TG: and the expensive as hell jumper thing and the cheap shunts which i assume do dick all without the jumpers to put em on    
TG: oh also this cd which is 100 but i didnt drop cause it seemed like a stiff allocation of resources for now    
GG: yeah ive got that too!    
GG: i will deploy it    
TG: so with each new connection in our player chain i guess new weird deployables are introduced    
GG: yes i think that is how it works    
GG: when john connects with me he will probably get some cool new things too!    
TG: hey look we're learning stuff

You set the green and white CD down next to Dave and the juice-stained beta copies. 

TG: what should i do with these beta copies    
TG: i dont really need them anymore 

You glance at the identical envelopes next to you and giggle to yourself.

GG: i suppose just hang on to them for a while........    
GG: and then later    
GG: just do whatever you are naturally compelled to do with them!    
TG: wow that was a weird answer    
TG: but ok

He takes both the beta and the CD while you deploy the Jumper Block Extension, which looks kind of like a circuit board. Make that a really big circuit board—it's as big as the Alchemiter itself. It appears to be deployable only as an extension to the Alchemiter. Looks like you're going to have to move it after all. 

Damn, and it looked so nice up there! At least Dave will be happy.

You expend another relatively affordable 100 build grist to relocate it to the floor of the roof. You then pay the steep fee of 1000 build grist to deploy the Jumper Block Extension. You have 798 grist left.

You deploy the Punch Card Shunt for peanuts next to it. Looks like a captchalogue card is supposed to fit in the slot.

You have to admit, you kind of wish you were the one who got to try out all these neat gadgets. They look like fun!


	102. Act IV: Try Out New Gadgets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ The roof
>   * _When:_ Present
> 


###  Chapter 102: Act IV: Try Out New Gadgets

Jade sets the Punch Card Shunt on the ground next to you. It looks like a captchalogue card is supposed to fit in the slot. You put the card with the CD in the slot and stick the shunt on the jumper pins.

Nothing happens. You might need to stick a punched card in there, probably allowing the holes in the card to affect the flow of current through the circuits. And to punch cards you'll need to get a designix somehow.

Instead, you take the CD down to your room and stick it in your computer. While your computer is reading the disc, you check on Rose. Looks like she's strifing with two monsters. One has a cat face and is dressed like a princess in pink, minus the skirt. The other is in a gray suit jacket with colorful sleeves and a motley hat. Yeah, she's fine.

You install the software on the disc. The Sburb client detects a plug-in and installs gristtor.exe. On the window behind it, Rose stabs one of the monsters with her knitting needles.

Your view is covered up when gristTorrent starts running.

You can see the grist caches for John, Rose, and yourself. John has the most, no surprise there. You've still got more than Rose, even after Jade's deployments.

You start leeching off John's shale at a pace of 4 g/s. Not the fastest download rate, but then again you don't need a whole lot. In one second you already collect enough for a Punch Designix.

You also set the application to leech off John's build grist because he's obviously got too much for his own good (over 13,000). It cuts the download rate in half though.

Whatever. You've got time.


	103. Act IV: Receive Good News and Bad News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Out and about on your island
>   * _When:_ Months in the past
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Troll and accompanying typing quirk, time shenanigans, relentless optimism

###  Chapter 103: Act IV: Receive Good and Bad News

_Meanwhile, the past pulls a mean double reacharound…_

It is a beautiful sunny day on your island. You are out on the hills a good ways from your home, but you laptop is with you, allowing you to chat with your friend as he wishes you a happy birthday.

ghostyTrickster [GT] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] 

GT: hey, happy birthday jade!   
GG: yay thank you john!!!!! :D   
GT: whew ok, i got your present in the mail JUST on time.   
GT: plus i sent rose's and dave's too.   
GT: why do your guys'es birthdays got to be all bunched together like that??? you are running me ragged!   
GG: heheh i know but it is nice of you to think of us all like that!   
GT: i can't wait for you to see what i got you. i don't want to spoil it or anything but hopefully it will help you solve those problems you've been having lately.   
GT: MYSTERIOUS WINK ;)   
GG: im sure it is great, i cant wait either!!!!!   
GG: it might take a while to get here from there but it will be worth the wait!   
GT: oh man.   
GT: i am such an idiot, i forgot about how long it takes you to get stuff.   
GT: ARGH.   
GG: john thats ok really! im sure will get to me exactly when it needs to and it will be a nice surprise when it does!   
GT: ok well i hope so.   
GG: <3......   
GG: uhhhh hold on 

Someone else is pestering you, or should you say, trolling you. You need to tell him to go away.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling gardenGnostic [GG] 

CG: WAIT GOD DAMMIT DON'T BLOCK ME.   
CG: I MEAN NOT THAT BLOCKING ME WOULD DO ANYTHING.   
CG: BUT JUST LISTEN.   
GG: what do you want?????   
CG: I JUST HAVE TO DELIVER A MESSAGE AND THEN I'LL GO.   
CG: IT IS A MESSAGE FROM YOU, SO YOU PROBABLY OUGHT TO LISTEN.   
GG: this is nonsense   
GG: every time i believe something you say you laugh at me and call me a gullible human!!!!   
GG: its so childish   
CG: OK FINE I ADMIT IT, I COMPLETELY SHIT THE BED HERE.   
CG: I GET THAT.   
CG: AND I CAN'T PROMISE I WON'T KEEP TROLLING YOU.   
CG: CAUSE I WILL, IN WEEKS OR MONTHS OR WHATEVER.   
CG: I'LL KEEP GIVING YOU A HARD TIME, BUT SEE THAT WON'T BE PRESENT ME.   
CG: THAT'S PAST ME.   
CG: FROM LIKE A HALF HOUR AGO OR SO, WHEN I WAS MORE HOT AND BOTHERED ABOUT ALL THIS, OK?   
GG: D:   
GG: i dont know what youre talking about at all.....   
GG: its another prank 

You're getting really tired of these pranks. They aren't funny in any way.

CG: WHATEVER, FINE, THINK IT'S A PRANK.   
CG: AS LONG AS YOU REMEMBER THIS CONVERSATION.   
CG: SEE WE'RE TRYING TO TALK TO YOU IN THE FUTURE, AND IT'S IMPORTANT, BUT YOU WON'T ANSWER US.   
CG: SO WE TALKED TO YOU WAAAY IN THE FUTURE TO ASK HOW TO GET IN TOUCH WITH NOT-SO-FUTURE YOU.   
CG: ARE YOU FOLLOWING?   
GG: no   
CG: SHE SAID TO TALK TO YOU NOW AND TELL YOU THIS.   
CG: YOU KNOW YOUR ROBOT?   
GG: you mean the robot you think is stupid?   
GG: the one youve mocked me for having on a number of occasions???   
CG: YEAH, WELL I STILL DO THINK YOUR ROBOT IS STUPID.   
CG: BUT THAT'S BESIDES THE POINT.   
CG: LATER ON IT WILL BLOW UP FOR SOME REASON. IT DOESN'T MATTER WHY. 

That is absolutely the last thing you want to hear. You like and need your robot for a variety of reasons, and don't even want to think about it blowing up.

GG: this is the worst prank youve ever pulled!!!!!!   
CG: QUIET.   
CG: ANYWAY, WHEN IT HAPPENS YOU WON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO.   
CG: THE THING TO DO IS TO CONTACT US.   
CG: AND WE'LL TELL YOU WHAT TO DO.   
GG: why should i do that?   
CG: BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT YOU TOLD US TO TELL YOU.   
CG: WHATEVER, BELIEVE ME, DON'T BELIEVE ME, I DID MY JOB.   
CG: I'M OUT OF HERE. 

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling gardenGnostic [GG] 

Once he's gone, you take a moment to center yourself. It's no use getting mad at the stupid troll. You dismiss his message and focus on putting a more positive spin on things. Your robot isn't actually going to blow up any time soon, and even if it did, you would have no way of contacting the troll, so who cares? It's just someone trying and failing to be funny, that's all.

With your more cheerful outlook restored, you get back to your conversation with John.

GG: ok im back sorry   
GG: i had to tell someone to go away!   
GT: oh god.   
GT: the trolls again?   
GG: yup :o   
GT: they have been such a pain in the ass lately.   
GT: it seems like there are so many.   
GT: there are either like fifty of these retards or it's one guy with a lot of alt accounts.   
GG: ive never had any sort of feeling about them or what they want which is kind of weird!!!   
GG: but it seems to me like they are probably all different people and not one guy   
GG: i have counted twelve   
GT: what do they want with us!!!   
GG: some people just like to needle others for some reason john   
GG: it is like a game i guess. they are like pranksters!!   
GT: oh hell no, shittiest pranksters ever.   
GG: but i think they are mostly harmless   
GG: every so often they manage to get through my block filter and hassle me. its been going on for years! actually some of them are kind of funny i think hehe   
GT: oh wow, what? years??   
GT: ok, well i am sick of them.   
GT: i've been thinking of changing my pesterchum handle to throw them off.   
GT: so...   
GT: i guess i'm gonna do that.

The green package from your pen-pal appears next to you again with an _-ificate_ sound. You've been wondering when it was going to show up. It has been months since you last worked on it! 

Hopefully your friend has made the final modifications you require. You'll have to mail it soon so it reaches John in time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And elsewhere in paradox space:_   
> 


	104. Act IV: Change Your Name To Shake Your Harassers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ Your room
>   * _When:_ Months in the past
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> L337 speaking troll, mention of mocking a disability, fairly graphic murder threat

###  Chapter 104: Act IV: Change Your Name To Shake Your Harassers

As if discussing the trolls with Jade summoned them, one begins to pester you.

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling ghostyTrickster [GT] \-- 

GC: H3H3   
GT: uuuuugh   
GC: H4H4H   
GC: H3H3H3H3 

Okay, well, this is weird.

GT: ?   
GC: LOL!   
GC: H3H3H3H3H3H3H3   
GC: >:]   
GT: well   
GT: i guess you're not too bad a troll if this is all you do.   
GT: just laughing and stuff.   
GC: H33H33H33!!!!   
GC: H4H4H4H4   
GT: hehe   
GC: 4H4H4H44H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4   
GT: hehehehehehe   
GC: JOHN   
GC: WHY WOULD YOU L4UGH 4T 4 BL1ND G1RL   
GT: uh...   
GC: YOU H4V3 NO 1D34 HOW MUCH YOU D1SGUST M3   
GC: YOUR3 4 TOT4L D1SGR4C3 TO TH3 F13LD OF 3CTOB1OLOGY   
GC: 1F W3 3V3R M33T   
GC: 1M GO1NG TO CUT YOUR THRO4T   
GC: 4ND L1ST3N TO YOU BL33D WH1L3 1 SM3LL YOU D13 

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased trolling ghostyTrickster [GT] –

Yeah, you were wrong. She is that bad.

You think it's time to change your chumhandle. 

To what, though... 

Gotta be something they'll never suspect. What was that thing she said you were a disgrace to? You have kind of a hard time reading shitty leetspeak in spite of your awesome hacker cred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And elsewhere in Paradox Space:  
> 


	105. Act IV: Enter Enemy Territory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ PM?
>   * _Where:_ Dersite palace
>   * _When:_ Present-ish
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> The dirty underpinnings of war, i.e., good people forced to do bad things. Also, bureaucracy

###  Chapter 105: Act IV: Enter Enemy Territory

_In the past set obliquely…_

You have followed the Authority Regulator into enemy territory via a transportalizer. It is a risky move and this dark palace makes you very uncomfortable. Between the purple décor and the dark carapaces around you, everything is different and you are afraid you stand out. But it is imperative you press on and recover that parcel. 

You have brought along a parking citation. If confronted, you will say you are only here to deliver payment and leave. You wander down a hallway or two. You have no idea where you're going. You are too nervous to ask anyone. That fellow with a diamond on his suit doesn't look very approachable. You lower your eyes and hurry by.

You take a turn somewhere and find an especially regal looking red carpet wide enough to drive a car down. You wonder where it could possibly lead. Having no other ideas, you decide to follow it.

The carpet leads you into a large vaulted room. You can just see a dark shape not unlike a throne placed where your carpet crosses another. As you get closer, you can just make out a slender figure seated on the throne. Upon her head is a black and white jester's hat with one part cut off. Her right eye has a slash through it, and she is missing her left arm. However, she is still up a limb with two pink and black striped tentacles extending from her sides. Her sleeveless dress is marked with diagonal stripes in purple, yellow, red and green on the bodice while the skirt is red with a pink waist and hem. On the first finger of her right hand is a gold ring with four orbs evenly spaced around the outside.

This is the black queen.

Your gaze meet hers, and you tremble. It is all you can do to hold up the parking citation in mute question.

One elegant finger lifts and points. The black queen directs you to the office of the Archagent. He is in charge of most of the tedious paperwork around here.

Following the black queen's directions, you find the agent's office. There are three fenestrated walls set up around a purple desk piled with parking citations. Next to it is a hatstand holding a pink hat with two points and gauze handing off the top, and a pink dress with puffy sleeves and colorful patches on the bodice. A small black spade is visible above the waist. But the agent is nowhere to be found. 

You eye the green box on the desk.

If you act quickly enough maybe you can grab the package and get out of here before— _“CAN I HELP YOU”_

You jump and turn, to see a black carapacian a little shorter than yourself, wearing a black coat. 

With a scowl, Mr. Noir tells you that ticket had better be notarized and punched in triplicate and presented with the full boondollar penalty plus processing fees, or you are wasting valuable time he could otherwise spend shirking his clerical duties.

Ticket? Oh, this thing. Ha, ha, look at that, you are holding a ticket. How did that get in your hand? It belongs on the desk with the others. No, you are not here to pay a parking ticket. 

You explain to the frightening man that you are here to pick up that green parcel.

Jack makes it clear he would rather stab something to death than process the avalanche of paperwork needed to release the confiscated freight. He does this by waving a black sword in front of you. Also any legit courier would have the pickup forms ready to go. In spite of how he's supposed to be dressed now but isn't, he ain't nobody's fool.

But perhaps an _understanding_ can be reached. 

He gives you a hit list.

Then he hands you his black sword. The hilt is topped by a cross. Bring him the crowns. He'll give you the box.

You really don't like this idea. And yet, your duty as a postal mistress is sacred. You are torn between loyalties. Still considering, you depart.


	106. Act IV: Open the Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jack Noir
>   * _Where:_ Your office
>   * _When:_ Present-ish
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Stealing mail, short chapter is short

###  Chapter 106: Act IV: Open the Box

The parcel mistress departs with her mission of double agency. You wonder if she'll actually be so foolish as to attempt to uphold her end of the lopsided bargain. You make a policy of handing out a regisword and a hitlist to just about everyone who enters your office. But you never think anyone's actually going to go _through_ with it. 

You wish you could watch. She's a deadwoman. 

You wonder why she's so desperate to acquire this package. You pick it up. It has some weight to it, but not a lot. What could be inside?

Uncaring of any rules of rightful possession, you open the box. You stare at the contents. You will never admit later that your eyes went wide.

You can use this.

This is perfect.


	107. Act IV: Meet Your Queen With A Sword In Your Hand

### Chapter 107: Act IV: Meet Your Queen With A Sword In Your Hand

Within the mayor's station, you type "John, put the carved tablet into the pyxis." You successfully do that, and he successfully does that too. Everyone is friendly and cooperative.

EGG!

You lose your footing as the station shakes. What the hell was that??? 

It almost sounded like a huge egg appeared in the sky and landed, and then someone mysterious teleported out of it. You take your sword in hand and go to the opening to look out. You can hardly believe your eyes. For a moment you can only stare.

There is a large metal egg now sitting in front of the ruined temple, and in front of it stands a Windswept Questant. Pale gray wrappings make a hood and a dress to protect a fair white carapace.

Your companions are getting over their shock. As you watch, dumbfounded, they take a piece of metal and then start pounding on it with the grenade gavel.

You... you never expected... 

 

In a long discarded memory, you hold the regisword openly as you enter the Prospitian palace. You seek an audience with royalty, but you do not want to deceive anyone.

You find your monarch as you did her counterpart: seating on a throne on a red carpet. Of course, the walls here are brilliant gold. The throne is a light gray that lets you make out the alternating dark and light squares. And her carapace is white, rather than black. Her outfit is different, though still colorful. It comes in two pieces. The midriff top has a purple collar that sticks up in the back, and short but draping green sleeves. Her skirt is stripes horizontally with sky and light blue. 

The missing arm, the extra tentacles, the scarred left eye, the ring on her finger... these things make you doubt. Only for a moment.

You show her the hit list. Then a flurry of disquieting happenstance is related to the adored sovereign. You hold nothing back: neither the black queen nor the archagent, not the floating girl in yellow or the green package you were charged to deliver. You lay your dilemma out as fully as you can. With no other options, her counsel is all that is left to be sought.

She takes the two cards that make up the hit list, and considers them.

Then she lifts her ringed hand, palm up and ringed finger extended. One of her tentacles gently slides the ring free.

Her appearance abruptly shifts. Gone is the jester's hat, replaced with a modest crown. Likewise the tentacles vanish, and the maimed parts heal. The ring rests in her returned arm.

She hands over the crown. You can hardly believe it, even as you stare at it in your hands.

Abdication is never ideal. But in the face of inevitable conquest, conceding ground can supply the only remaining advantage. The final hope for victory lies in patience and planning.

The white king of course can be found on the battlefield. His crown may be retrieved there. The ring must be designated for protection. He will supply further instruction on this matter.

She stands and puts the ring in your right hand.

You go to one knee before her, bracing yourself with the regisword in your left hand. The royal duty has been accepted...

 

...And in time, fulfilled.

While you were lost in memory, the mayor and the judge have presented their gift to the questant. The crown is a little scuffed, but it's the thought that counts. 

She has seated herself on a rock, but she sits as if she is on the finest throne. You grip your sword, take a breath to brace yourself, and approach. She sees you coming, and stands.

Hundreds of years after the previous occasion, you kneel before her in the same pose, the same sword in your hand. She holds a different crown, one fashioned crudely but earnestly.

Then she places the crown upon your head. You gasp in shock. Your acquaintances are no less surprised.


	108. Act IV: Assert Your Independence, Passively and Aggressively

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ LOLAR (on the dock)
>   * _When:_ A little while ago (concurrent with chapter 97)
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Alcohol, unconventional uses for knitting needles and yarn, don't try this at home, brief discussion of cold-blooded murder, troll quirks

###  Chapter 108: Act IV: Assert Your Independence, Passively and Aggressively

>Rose, I must leave you now.

While you consider the ramifications of the troll's revelations, you get back to Dave. You've left him holding long enough. On the open window behind the chat you observe that Nanna has been industriously baking cookies, in between dealing with impish intruders.

>This is the last you will hear from me.

Honestly, that may be a bit of a relief. You are hearing a few too many voices. You stand and step around you computer, looking out over the water again. Vodka Mutini promptly curls up on your pillow in your place.

>Find your sprite. Realize your purpose.

You return to a more typical mindset. You suddenly feel empowered to make important decisions on your own without supervision. Parental or otherwise.

Such as this one. 

You pick up the abandoned martini, intending to sip it thoughtfully. Just a tiny sip couldn't hurt…

_Bluh!_

You promptly spit it back out and drop the glass. The olive goes flying. That swill is thoroughly disgusting and you can't fathom what your mother sees in it.

As you return to your house, you discover that the imps have inevitably arrived. Unlike the imps at John's house, many of these are lighter in color. Some are also displaying the effects of your prototyped sprite, with pink attire or tentacles or cat features. They seem to be a different breed as well, netting you marble and chalk in addition to build grist, rather than the oil John found.

They are easily defeated by your expertly wielded needles, in any event.

You turn and find your first Lime Ogre waiting behind you. You grip your needles and hold them pointing away from you, at the level with your forehead. Then you leap with a scream and bring the needles stabbing down into the ogre's eyes. You let go of the needles and run the attached yarn through your hands as you back flip over the ogre's roaring head to land on his back.

You treat the yarn like reins and send both the ogre and yourself over the waterfall. The ogre lands with a great splash at the bottom, with you standing triumphantly on his back.

That was quite a rush.

You let go of the yarn to answer your computer.

TG: im building up your house    
TG: by the way why do you live in this weird compound 

Yes Dave, because you are definitely the one who chose your living quarters.

TG: do you host east european industrial raves    
TG: nevermind the point is    
TG: im out of grist    
TG: so if youre done whipping that ogre like a rented mule    
TG: maybe you could convert it into a grist windfall    
TT: Right now?    
TT: The spoils would sink.    
TG: i dont know beach the thing first i guess    
TG: unless you were planning on sailing that ogre down the mississippi with a runaway slave    
TT: And then what?    
TG: what do you mean    
TG: you kill it    
TG: release a shitload of grist    
TG: maybe take one of your needles and puncture the base of its skull    
TG: does it even have a skull    
TG: or a brain stem    
TG: can you find out    
TT: That sounds malicious.    
TG: what    
TG: but you just rigged the thing with an oedipal harness and rode its torso like a log flume ride down a magical rainbow    
TT: That was self defense.    
TT: Murdering a wounded behemoth in its sleep strikes me as unseemly.    
TG: this is bullshit its an unfeeling monster who gives a fuck    
TT: Maybe you could replicate a pillow I could use to smother it.    
TT: Make it a clean hit.    
TT: I would use one of mine but they've all mysteriously gone missing.    
TG: wow fuck ok    
TG: you can either kill it for the loot or wait a couple hours for gristtorrent to steal more of johns    
TG: but then again ill be pretty busy in a couple hours so make up your mind    
TT: Does John know we've been sapping his grist yet?    
TG: no but hes still got a ton so screw him    
TT: Hold on, someone's messaging me.    
TG: yeah me too

You switch windows and behold brown text. You don't recall seeing this troll before.

\-- adiosToreador [AT] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] \-- 

AT: hIIII, sO,    
AT: yOU GET BOSSED AROUND BY THE KNIGHT, oK, gIVEN THAT, i HAVE A QUESTION, 

You were not aware than anyone was “bossing you around,” especially with both your mother and your exile out of your vicinity. Furthermore, you have no intention of facilitating a troll's endeavors presently.

TT: Who?    
AT: oH, tHE ONE WHO'S SUPPOSED TO BE "cool", i THINK,    
AT: tHE SUN GLASSES GUY,    
TT: Why would someone wear sunglasses while using a computer?    
AT: iIII DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT A COMPUTER, bUT,    
AT: yES, hAAAAAH,    
AT: i THOUGHT THE SAME THING ABOUT HOW ASININE THAT IS,    
AT: sO, yOU KNOW THAT GUY, uMMM,    
TT: I know that anyone committed to such an affectation could only be striving to mask a severe insecurity complex, and likely harbors a crisis of self-image.    
TT: I've been known to lend my charitable attention to such people, but only "bossed around" by them insofar as the psychiatric professional has cause to humor the demented for analytical purposes.    
TT: Or maybe as a lab chimp commands the zookeeper's interest in its shit by forcing him to duck under its trajectory now and then.    
AT: oK, wOW, i DIDN'T UNDERSTAND THOSE THINGS,    
AT: bUT, uHH, i MEAN DAVE,    
TT: Oh, that guy.    
AT: yEAH, oK, gIVEN THAT, i HAVE A QUESTION,    
AT: aBOUT HIM,    
AT: i WANT TO KNOW ABOUT HIS EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITIES,    
AT: aND, uM, wHAT ARE THE TENDER SPOTS THAT ALL THOSE, uHHH,    
AT: dEVICES HE EMPLOYS TO CONCEAL THEM, uHH, lIKE ALL THE THINGS HE SAYS HE THINKS ARE FUNNY,    
TT: Tender spots?    
TT: Your word choices are evocative.    
TT: Is your design to couple with this gentleman?    
AT: wHOAAAAAAAA, nO, nO, wHOA, 

Methinks the lady doth protest too much.

AT: oK, nO, tHAT JUST MADE ME FEEL UPSET TO THINK ABOUT,    
AT: i JUST WANT TO REALLY TRY TO BOTHER HIM, iT'S HARD,    
TT: If you're trying to get his goat, you should know he only stocks the animal in the first place for ironic purposes.    
AT: nO, i'M NOT REALLY INTERESTED IN HIS EARTH GOAT, bUT IF THAT WAS A FIGURE OF SPEECH THEN i GUESS THAT'S OK, 

There really is no challenge in confusing this troll. If he or she intends to lock horns with Dave, you might need to provide your advice after all. There is the consideration that you are still miffed at his handling of your entry. You know what you must do.

TT: Then we're agreed; you are hellbent upon literally seizing his shrill, bearded livestock.    
TT: I'll assist you.    
AT: uHH,    
TT: If you really want to burn him, I recommend poetry.    
AT: wHAT, pOETRY, aS IN LIKE THOSE HUMAN WORD BUNCHES,    
TT: Yes. They are the most delicious bunches we have.    
TT: I suggest you serve these crisp bunches of honey and verbal annihilation to him as part of a complete breakfast.    
AT: oH, aND, wILL THIS BREAKFAST INJURE HIS SHRILL BARN BEAST,    
AT: i MEAN THIS FIGURATIVELY, jUST TO BE CLEAR,    
TT: A deft cluster-bombing of this sort will leave nothing wriggling from the razed earth.    
TT: Except sulfurous tresses while it cracks and turns black.    
AT: yOU MEAN, lIKE, tHE SURFACE OF AN OVERCOOKED PROTEIN OBJECT,    
TT: Yeah.    
TT: I suppose what I'm saying is this.    
TT: Drop some hard, peer-reviewed motherfuckin' science on his ass.    
TT: Some seriously government funded shit.    
TT: It will destroy him.    
AT: aAAAAHAHAHAH, yES,    
AT: tHIS IS THE IDEA THAT i LIKE,    
TT: Your obvious cunning with words should depants Strider with such vivid empyrean tempest, a nether-regional sonic boom is certain inevitability.    
TT: But even so.    
TT: Consider me at your disposal to help craft a comeuppance of such unqualified devastation, the angels will weep pearlstrings of little urban fellows cantillating an unbroken chorus of Oh Snaps.    
AT: pLEEEEASE,    
AT: i THINK i AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF MANUFACTURING THESE ALLEGED "dope" HUMAN RHYMES,    
AT: aND STARTING SOME SICK FIRES,    
AT: i DON'T NEED YOUR CHARITY, tHAT YOU SAID YOU LEND,    
AT: tO, uHHH,    
AT: eARTH MONKEYS WHO TOSS AROUND POOP, oR SOMETHING LIKE THAT,    
AT: yOU'RE PRETTY SNOOTY,    
AT: tHANKS FOR YOUR HELP, bUT I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP, 

adiosToreador [AT] blocked tentacleTherapist [TT] 

adiosToreador [AT] unblocked tentacleTherapist [TT]

AT: oOPS, sORRY, i DIDN'T MEAN TO BLOCK YOU,    
AT: uMMMM,

Well. If nothing else, this should be amusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Methinks…" is, of course, a quote from _Hamlet_. I am well aware that AT is not a lady, but since Rose doesn't know that yet, I left the quote as is.


	109. Act IV: Upgrade Your Gizmo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Your apartment
>   * _When:_ A few minutes ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> diy technology upgrades, sarcasm, really awful rapping

###  Chapter 109: Act IV: Upgrade Your Gizmo

You've leeched more than enough grist from John to afford a Punch Designix, which for some reason Jade put in the hallway making it kind of hard to walk through your apartment and it's kind of blocking the door to your bedroom, but whatever. You also have plenty of grist for messing around with the Alchemiter to manufacture some new gear if you want. But you'd like to figure out what the Jumper Block does first. 

Jade keeps dropping a weird assortment of objects for you to captchalogue and punch. You've given up trying to identify any rhyme or reason to the thought process behind it.

You take your stack of punched cards up to the roof. You put the punched blender card in a shunt just for the hell of it, and stick it on the jumper pins. The Alchemiter is fitted with the blender upgrade on the totem pedestal. 

This upgrade doesn't seem all that useful. Looks like all it does is grind up your totems.

You try another shunt, putting in the punched _Gamebro Magazine_ card. The Alchemiter is upgraded with a huge metal bust of this awesome bro on the platform. The device has been reduced to an utterly useless heap of shit. 

Time to yank out all the shunts and start over.

Before you can get very far, Jade messages you.

GG: dave here punch this code!   
GG: L229BxoG   
GG: and then put it in the jumper shunty thing and see what it does   
TG: ok

It's a chore to get back into the hallway, with the Designix blocking the door, but you manage. You punch the card and then bring it back up to the Alchemiter and out it in the shunt. 

Huh. That's not bad.

TG: so i guess this is just a built in designix   
TG: which is sort of cool i guess   
TG: since i wont have to go downstairs and bang the hallway door into the thing and squeeze through every time i want to punch a card   
TG: because of course you couldnt have just put it next to the alchemiter in the first place   
TG: but then i have to go downstairs anyway to make totems and get cruxite and stuff   
TG: so really who cares   
GG: well i think this is only one way to consolidate all the gizmo features....   
GG: hang on ill give you more codes!!!

She somehow sends you the code for the Holopad, despite being too expensive to buy right now. When you punch the card and then put it in the shunt, the totem pedestal is converted into a holographic projector. It projects an image of the item the punch code represents. 

This seems useful for previewing an item a code will produce, without spending the grist on it. You test it out with the blender card. 

Yep. That's a blender.

But it still renders the alchemiter unusable. At least without further upgrades.

The upgrade from the Totem Lathe captcha adds a machine much like the lathe next to the holopad. Now the holopad projects a hologram of the totem that a punch card will create. This appears to turn the alchemiter into a one stop-shopping hub. You just punch a card, stick it in, and get your item. Nice!

Jade then sends you the the code for the jumper block extension to upgrade the alchemiter with... uh... the jumper block extension? This is getting a little abstract.

But it appears to economize on space. The big circuit board vanishes, leaving a neat row of slots along the side of the Alchemiter between the holopad and the Designix. Now all you have to do is stick a card in a slot to apply an upgrade. Don't have to bother with the shunts anymore.

(Jade tries to draw the Intellibeam Laserstation for you, but it turns into the ghost image of a gundam instead. Dammit!)

That's fine. You've got other ideas, now that Jade has gotten you started. You head down to the hallway again and grab the enlarger from your dismantled photography lab. Adding this to the Alchemiter gives you an attachment like a microscope over it. 

Jade gives you the code for the huge air conditioner to mess around with. Due to the enlarger upgrade, the size of the object you make is now variable. The bigger, the more expensive, as one would expect.

You make a tiny air conditioner for 10 build grist. This was totally not a waste of time!

Speaking of time, you better do what you can for Rose while you have some. You get back on your computer and start building. You move the Alchemiter off the roof and start adding copies of the living room instead. But you can't get very far before you run out of grist.

Good thing Rose just took down an ogre, then. If only she would finish the thing off. You hadn't expected her to be squeamish, but you guess she is a girl after all.

You put your conversation with Rose on hold so you can both attend to someone else.

\-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] \-- 

GA: You Command The Seer   
GA: So You May Have Some Insight Into Her Disposition   
TG: who   
GA: The One Who Is A Little Snooty   
TG: oh yeah sure   
TG: i command her alright i am like the pimpmaster hustledaddy of all snippy bookshrews 

Getting her to actually listen is less under control, but whatever. That isn't the point.

GA: Thats An Exotic Title   
GA: I Thought You Were The Knight 

News to you. But yeah, okay, you've got swords and shit, you get how someone could think that.

TG: wrong what do you want   
GA: Have You Found Her Demeanor To Be Chilly   
GA: On A Basis Of Personal Interaction That Hypothetically Extends Beyond The Context Of A Short Lived And Lackluster Trolling Effort   
TG: what the hell   
GA: I Thought Your Familiarity With Her May Allow You To Furnish Me Insight   
GA: She And You Are Familiar Isnt That Right   
GA: She Perhaps Even Regards You With Uh   
GA: Endearment 

Translation: she likes you. You can roll with that.

TG: you have no idea dude she is so in my grill   
TG: like a stray hotdog that rolled down there   
TG: and now its too much trouble to fish out with the tongs   
TG: so you just watch it like crack and turn black   
GA: Um Is This   
GA: A Common Sort Of Practice In Human Courtship   
GA: Watching Oblong Meat Products Tumble Into Places They Dont Belong   
TG: man wait   
TG: whats this about   
TG: you have a thing for her dont you   
TG: dont deny it bro its obvious   
GA: Am I Being Accused Of Falling Prey To The Human Dysfunction Of Amorous Inclination   
TG: hahahaha so terrible   
TG: what a transparent dodge   
TG: all hiding behind your alien shit   
TG: just admit it   
TG: you want me to help you win her over   
GA: I Just Would Like To Gather   
GA: Some Means Of Gauging Her Sincerity   
TG: ok well its easy   
TG: for everything she says take her to mean just the opposite   
TG: see not everybody always means literally what they say the way john and jade always do   
GA: Maddening   
GA: How Do Humans Forge Meaningful Relationships Using Such Communication Patterns   
GA: Perhaps It Is The Human Riddle That Is Truly The Ultimate Riddle   
TG: oh my flipping christ   
TG: ok if you want rose to dig you you got to leave that crap in the shitty scifi novels where it belongs   
GA: It Was Not A Sincere Remark   
GA: I Have Been Practicing   
GA: Your Human Sarcasm   
TG: oh ok   
TG: that was pretty good   
TG: maybe even too deadpan but its a start keep at it   
GA: Very Well   
GA: I Am Beginning To Feel As Though I Am The Only One Working On Our Friendship   
TG: hahaha yes youre on a roll   
GA: That Was Sincerity   
TG: oh   
TG: alright look   
TG: if you want to keep her attention you got to pull out all the stops   
TG: reverse psychology mind games all sorts of machiavellian bullshit   
TG: i mean unless youre really smooth and inherently likeable like me which youre not   
GA: Then   
GA: Keep Saying The Opposite Things   
TG: thats kind of the obtuse alien way of getting it but yeah   
TG: be like   
TG: an antagonism ninja   
TG: like her   
TG: i dont know you sort of remind me of her anyway so maybe thats a good thing   
TG: it could be a horrible thing though   
GA: It Sounds Like   
GA: You Are Advising Me To Troll Her Again   
GA: Which I Have Tried   
GA: It Proved To Be A Fruitless Endeavor   
TG: yeah i guess i am 

How can you put this? Oh, yeah, that's perfect.

TG: i guess im saying be a less shitty troll   
GA: Okay   
GA: I Believe I Understand How To Proceed   
TG: good luck bro

Since you still have no grist to work with on Rose's house, you go back to working on your next SBAHJ comic. You're working on filling in the colors of a panel when AT trolls you.

\-- adiosToreador [AT] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] \-- 

AT: oKAYYYY, mY BROMO SAPIEN,   
AT: r U READY,   
AT: tO GET STRAIGHT IN, FLAT DOWN, BROAD SIDE, SCHOOL FED UP THE BONE BULGE,   
AT: bY A DOPE SMACKED, TRINKED OUT, SMOTHER FUDGING,   
AT: tROLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL,   
TG: dont care   
AT: oK, lET ME,   
AT: oRGANIZE MY NOTES HERE,   
AT: oKAYYY,   
AT: (tURN ON SOME STRICT BEATS MAYBE, iT WILL HELP TO LISTEN TO THEM WHILE i DESTROY YOU,)   
AT: wHEN THE POLICE MAN BUSTS ME, aND POPS THE TRUNK,   
AT: hE'S ALL SUPRISED TO FIND I'M TOTING SICK BILLY,   
AT: wHOSE,   
AT: gOAT IS THAT, hE ASKS, wHILE HE STOPS TO THUNK   
AT: aBOUT IT, aND i'S JUST SAY IT'S DAVE'S, yOU SILLY   
AT: gOOSE,   
AT: bUT THE MAN SAYS, gOOSE! wHERE, lET ME SEE YOUR HANDS,   
AT: aND i SAY SHIT SORRY, i DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS HONKTRABAND,   
AT: wOW, oK,   
AT: i AM GETTING OFF THE POINT, wHICH WAS,   
AT: aBOUT THIS HOT MESS DAVE, tHAT YOU GOT LANDED IN,   
AT: lIKE THE COP i MENTIONED, bUT INSTEAD OF YOUR BADGE,   
AT: aND YOUR GUN, IT'S YOUR ASS THAT YOU HANDED IN,   
AT: (aND THEN GOT HANDED BACK TO YOU,)   
AT: cAUSE THAT'S HOW HUMANS GET SERVED,   
AT: aND GUYS LIKE YOU DESERVE TO UNDERSTAND THAT iT'S,   
AT: a CIRCLE AND HORNS IN YOUR BUTT THAT GOT BRANDED IN,   
AT: (uMM, bEFORE i GAVE YOUR ASS BACK TO YOU, i DID THAT, iS WHAT i MEAN,)   
AT: bUT i MEAN, gETTING BACK TO THE POINT, oR MAYBE TWO ACTUALLY,   
AT: tHE FIRST IS YOU SUCK, aND THE SECOND IS HOW i SMACKEDYOUFULLY,   
AT: (oH YEAH, tHAT RHYME WAS SO ILLLLLLLLL,)   
AT: bUT NO, jUST JOKING, lET'S SEE, hOW CAN i PUT THIS TACTFULLULLY,   
AT: i MEAN THE POINTS ON THE HORNS ON MY HEAD,   
AT: cOMING AT YOU THROUGH TRAFFIC,   
AT: aIMED AT THE TARGET ON YOUR SHIRT THAT IS RED,   
AT: wE'RE ABOUT TO GET MAD HORNOGRAPHIC,   
AT: (i MEAN SORT OF LIKE A GRAPHIC CRIME SCENE, nOT LIKE,)   
AT: (aNYTHING SEXUAL,)   
AT: (eRR, wHOAAAAA,)   
AT: (nEVERMIND,)   
AT: oK, gETTING BACK TO THE ACTUAL, tACTICAL, vERNACULAR SMACKCICLE,   
AT: i'M FORCING YOU TO BE LICKING, (aND lIKING,)   
AT: gRAB MY HORNS AND START KICKING, lIKE YOU'RE RIDING A VIKING,   
AT: cAUSE i'M YOUR BULLY, aND YOU'RE NOT IN CHARGE,   
AT: yOU THINK YOU'RE IN CHARGE BUT YOU'RE NOT IN CHARGE,   
AT: i'M IN CHARGE, cAUSE i'M CHARGING IN,   
AT: yOUR CHINASHOP,   
AT: bREAKING, uH, yOUR PLATES AND STUFF, WHICH i DON'T REALLY KNOW,   
AT: wHAT THE PLATES ARE SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT, bUT,   
AT: (fUCK,)   
AT: iT'S JUST THAT YOU THINK YOU ARE THE COCK OF THE WALK'S HOT SHIT   
AT: bUT WHEN IN FACT YOU ARE NOT, mORE LIKE YOU ARE,   
AT: sOMETHING THAT RHYMES WITH THE COCK OF THE WALK'S HOT SHIT,   
AT: bUT IS SO MUCH WORSE THAN THE COCK'S SHIT,   
AT: sO, gIVEN THAT, lET ME BE THE FIRST,   
AT: tO SAY YOU ACT LIKE YOU'RE GOLD FROM PROSPIT,   
AT: wHEN YOU'RE REALLY COLD SHIT FLUSHED FROM DERSE,

What.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elsewhere in paradox space:  
> 


	110. Act IV: Contemplate Overtures of Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ LOLAR (bottom of the waterfall)
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Trolling, minor temporal shenanigans, sorta-dead pets, cats being cats, cryptic advice

###  Chapter 110: Act IV: Contemplate Overtures of Friendship

The ogre has drifted from the base of the waterfall. You can now see Jaspersprite drifting around the back side of the island. Scarcely have you beached the ogre than someone else trolls you.

\-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] \--

GA: Your Dark Spectacled Friend Has Advised Me On A More Effective Method For Trolling You   
GA: I Think His Contention Is That This Strategy Will Have The Opposite Of The Intended Effect And Precipitate A Sort Of Bond Between Us That Is Established In Mutual Antagonism   
GA: What Do You Think About This 

You think that sounds exactly like the level of irony Dave would aspire to.

TT: I think you're shrewd to have recognized his ploy of sabotage, and you've earned my compliments.   
GA: Ah See It Is Working Already   
TT: What is?   
GA: Ive Listened To His Advice   
GA: And Have Resolved To Modify The Approach Slightly   
GA: I Know What I Have To Do   
GA: What We Have To Do Really   
TT: What's that?   
GA: Remember The First Time We Spoke   
TT: Yes, but you said it wasn't the first time you spoke to me.   
TT: We'll graciously omit my embarrassing skepticism however.   
GA: The First Time You Spoke To Me Was The Second Time I Spoke To You   
TT: This conversation doesn't sound like your first time either.   
GA: This Is Your Second Conversation With Me But Is My Seventh With You   
TT: And when exactly does your maiden encounter take place?   
GA: Thats Next Time   
TT: So to clarify.   
TT: If the matching of my first with your second is denoted by 1=2, then the sequence would be:   
TT: 1=2, 2=7, 3=1, 4=?, ...   
GA: Yes And The Rest Of The Sequence Is Simply   
GA: 4=3, 5=4, 6=5, 7=6   
GA: Unless My Future Self Stowed Another Conversation In Between One Of Those Which Is Entirely Possible   
GA: But Urrgh I Dont Want To Think About That 

The sequence does not appear difficult to follow, even if the rationale was convoluted.

TT: Why is it that when the subject of temporal mechanics is broached your sparing troll intellects etcetera etcetera.   
GA: See That Is What I Mean Rose You Are Not As Dumb Of A Girl As I Was Initially Lead To Believe   
TT: You mean based on the first impression I am apparently about to make in our next conversation?   
GA: Yes   
TT: What could I possibly say that will leave such an imprint?   
GA: That Is Why I Have Contacted You Now   
GA: I Will Send You A Copy Our First Conversation Directly From My Chat Log 

\-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] sent tentacleTherapist [TT] the file "ConversationWithAVeryStupidGirl.Txt" -- 

You skim the conversation, and have to agree that you did not comport yourself to your usual high standards. And there are some places where you can only assume you were being facetious in the extreme.

TT: I guess being forced to cooperate with a stable time loop is the only plausible explanation for my remarks.   
GA: Yes And Then I Found It Sort Of Curious That During My Next Conversation With You Your Various Mental Endowments And Wherewithals Were Not As They Seemed   
GA: I Suspected The Stratagem Might Be A Counter Trolling Measure But Then Was Not So Sure And Further Examination Grew Warrant   
TT: And what if my counter-counter measure is to choose not to transcribe this dialogue accurately in the future-first place?   
GA: But See I Have Edited The Copy Already In Ways That Will Remain Secret For Now But You Will Discover Once You Type It   
GA: So You Are Destined To Edit It No Matter What And What You Submit Will Be What I Once Read Regardless   
GA: !   
TT: Unless I decide to copy it word-for-word!   
GA: Yes Unless I Lied About Editing It In The First Place   
GA: Either Way Through Knowledge Of What You Will Say I Have Precisely Engineered The Nature Of Your Transgression   
GA: !!! 

You have to admit, your opinion of this troll is depreciating somewhat. This sounds like an argument suitable for Egbert, not an adversary on your intellectual level. Although... you suppose there is another layer to the plot.

TT: So your trolling strategy now is to put idiotic words in my mouth through the machinery of temporal inevitability, and cause me to excruciate over how to subvert the transcription?   
GA: Yes   
TT: While being perfectly up front about it?   
GA: Yes I Suppose Its That Sarcasm All The Time Seems Laborious To Me   
TT: I'll admit, it's a more advanced tactic than I gave you credit for.   
GA: Yes And The Providence Of This Antagonism Ninja Vice Grip Pinching Your Larynx Has Already Begun To Supply My Purpose With Fruit   
GA: The Chilly Frost Shimmering On Our Tree Of Human Friendship Has Begun To Thaw   
TT: Mixed metaphor aside, usually ninjas don't announce what they're doing when they're doing it.   
TT: Like when stalking an emperor to assassinate him.   
TT: Or befriend him.   
TT: But that's fine.   
TT: I guess the only pointless question we haven't exhausted is, why?   
TT: Why the convoluted artifice?   
GA: Dave Raised Insight Into The Human Psychology Of Friendship Development   
GA: By Allotting You Your Side Of The Conversation I Have You At The Disadvantage In Your View And You Will Seek To Reclaim Higher Ground   
GA: In Successive Conversations   
GA: 4=3 And 5=4 And Such   
GA: Your Demeanor Will Be Terse If Not Saturated With Disdain And It Will Cause Me To Be Confused And Question Your Motivation   
GA: But Now I Know Your Motivation Because I Am Supplying It Here And Now   
GA: They Will Be Simple Acts Of Friendly Human Retaliation   
TT: So you're not only rigging the first impression I make on you, but orchestrating my revenge for the rigging as well?   
GA: Yes   
GA: It Seems Friendship For Some Humans Is A Basic Aggregation Of Shallow And Insincere Hostilities   
TT: That's an interesting take on it. 

Not entirely incorrect, though a bit incomplete.

TT: But now I know for sure Dave isn't behind this plan.   
TT: It's too complicated. 

Despite his love of irony, he doesn't tend to think on so many layers at once. You suppose this must be an indication of the troll's intellect after all.

GA: I Dont Understand   
GA: Who Better To Coordinate Such Events Than The Knight Of Time   
TT: You're awfully quick to his defense.   
TT: Are you sure you don't have a thing for him?   
TT: It's ok, bro. You can admit it.   
GA: I'm Hopping To 8=8   
GA: Ideally You Will Have Long Since Discarded This Train Of Thought   
TT: Ok.   
TT: I'm going to talk to my dead cat.

Four pink turtle shells float in the air above your head, each spouting pastel water for the waterfall above your house. In this setting, your pink princess dead cat floating on the beach hardly seems out of place. You don't hesitate to consult him.

“Meow.”

You smack your forehead with both hands. You guess it was too much to hope for anything else.

Completely unperturbed by your disappointment, Jaspersprite sticks a tentacle into the ocean.

“Is that all you have to say?”

_Purr purr purr._

You sigh. “I thought you were supposed to be more helpful after your resurrection. Like a ghostly spirit guide. Wise, if frustratingly cryptic.”

_Purrrrrrrrrr._

“Actually, cryptic behavior would be welcome at this point. This is just inane.” If the game truly tailors the experience to the players, you would have thought your guide would be extremely cryptic and convoluted.

Jaspersprite gives you a kitty smile. :3 

“Should I report to the others that my Kernelsprite is a Lolcat? Maybe Dave can take some screen captures and overlay some poorly spelled captions.” You pause, recalling that he has been watching you intermittently. “Assuming he hasn't already.”

_Meow._

You eye the tentacle moving industriously in the water. “What are you doing there, by the way?”

“Im fishing!” your cat informs you.

Honestly, you cannot even muster up any surprise. “Oh. So you can talk.”

“But sadly there are no fish i think. They were all eaten by the Denizen!”

This is a little more like it. Dribbles and drabbles of information doled out slowly over time are a hallmark of any questing game. You dutifully ask, “Who?”

“It ate everything in the ocean and got so full that it took a long nap. No there is surely not a single living thing left! Which is too bad because im pretty hungry.”

If he knows that, you're not sure why he is trying to fish. Perhaps it was a gimmick to get you asking the right questions. “I think there might be some tuna in the cabinets.”

“Oh good idea i will look there! _Purr purr_. ”

You recall the question you've been pondering for years. “Jaspers, the message you gave me years ago before you disappeared... What did you mean?”

_Meow._

You sigh. Jaspersprite just kitty-smiles.

Though you suspect your endeavor will be futile, you press the question. “I don't understand. Is there some meaning to these responses, or are you just being obstinate?”

“You will understand when you wake up!”

“Am I asleep?”

“Yes! Rose im just a cat and i dont know much but i know that youre important and also you are what some people around here call the Seer of Light. And you dont know what that means but you will see its all tied together! All the life in the ocean and all the shiny rain and the songs in your head and the letters they make. A beam of light i think is like a drop of rain or a long piece of yarn that dances around when you play with it and make it look enticing!”

Wonderful. Cryptic metaphors as relayed by a feline.

“And the way that it shakes is the same as what makes notes in a song! And a song i think can be written down as letters. So if you play the right song and it makes all the right letters then those letters could be all the letters that make life possible. So all you have to do is wake up and learn to play the rain! Does that make sense rose sorry i disappeared for so long.”

You consider the sprite's speech. You suppose you will have to consider everything more closely later, but for now you think you understand the gist. “Sort of. It sounds like you aren't exactly in complete command of this information yourself, so I won't press you on it for now. You're a pretty good cat, Jaspers. I missed you.”

_Purr purr purrrrrrrr._

Having gleaned all the information you can out of your cryptic cat, you think you might as well try your other flabbergasting friend.

TT: I spoke with Jaspers.   
TT: I didn't understand what he told me.   
TT: He said I'll understand once I "wake up".   
TT: For some reason this made me think of you.   
GG: hehehe……   
GG: yeah i bet hes right! 

You should have expected her to agree, you suppose.

TT: We wouldn't happen to be talking about awakening in a sort of breezy, philosophical sense, would we?   
TT: Is my dead cat concerned with my enlightenment? Should I prepare to shed this coil of ignorance and suffering?   
GG: wow no i dont think so...   
GG: hes being a bit more literal than that! 

You're not certain how it _can_ be literal. How long have you been asleep? Will the game end when you wake? Is the game itself a dream? It would certainly explain some of the nonsensical machinations you've noticed so far.

GG: what did he say?   
TT: I doubt I could reproduce the statements with fidelity.   
TT: It was like listening to a five year-old describe a dream.   
TT: The content manages to take a back seat to the simple heartwarming spectacle of the moment.   
GG: :)   
GG: well what he meant was.....   
GG: that you have a dream self   
GG: who is supposed to wake up whenever your real self goes to sleep   
GG: we all do! all four of us i mean   
GG: but see your dream self still stays asleep when you go to sleep   
GG: because you havent woken up yet!   
TT: I think I get it.   
TT: I take it your "dream self" is wide awake when you sleep?   
GG: yes 

Well, that explains a great deal. You are forming a theory.

TT: And would I be out of line in additionally presuming this has been the case for many years, at least as long as I've known you?    
GG: no you would not be out of line!    
GG: in fact im asleep now    
TT: That was to be my next wild presumption.    
GG: :p    
TT: So when I wake up, can I look forward to being able to message people in my sleep too?    
GG: no only i can do that!    
GG: because of my robot    
TT: Oh, right.    
TT: I forgot about your robot.    
TT: My short term recall seems to eschew the profoundly ridiculous.    
GG: you guys can probably make your own i guess......    
GG: but you need to wake up first for it to matter and maybe by the time that happens you might not even need them!!!    
TT: I'm not sure if necessity is a concept I'd associate with such a contraption even under some of the more obscure scenarios imaginable.    
TT: But good to know I guess.    
TT: Here's another question, which I'm sure will look stupid once I've finished typing it.    
TT: If my dream self is asleep, does that mean she's dreaming, and if she is, who's dreaming the dream, her or me?   
GG: um.......    
GG: ok well i dont really know how to answer the second part but yeah shes dreaming!    
GG: shes most likely lying in your bed troubled and restless 

Why troubled and restless, you wonder. For that matter, why does she/you have a bed when dreaming? _Where_ is your dreamself? This all sounds extremely intriguing and more than a little nonsensical.

GG: about things burdening her   
GG: which is to say you!!!!!   
GG: things about who you really are and what your purpose is   
GG: but you cant start figuring those things out yet because youre not awake because youre not ready yet   
GG: thats why you have such terrible dreams all the time rose!   
TT: Ok. How do I wake up?   
GG: im sure it would help to start piecing together the clues to nudge your subconscious   
GG: or maybe face some things you havent faced yet?   
GG: i dunno! its for you to find out   
GG: maybe the stuff you wrote on your walls can give you a clue? 

This sounds familiar.

TT: What stuff?   
GG: the....   
GG: er   
GG: didnt dave tell you? 

_Very_ familiar.

TT: Tell me what?   
GG: ._.   
TT: Are you saying he said I defaced the walls of my room?   
TT: While not appearing to be cognizant of the scrawlings?   
TT: Like John?   
TT: I really hope that's not what you're saying.   
TT: It might freak me out.   
GG: he said he was going to tell you <_<;   
TT: Hold on.

You immediately pester Dave.

TT: Strider.   
TT: I need you to do me a favor.   
TT: Can you take a capture of my bedroom and send me the file?   
TT: For no reason in particular?

You wait a moment, but receive no reply. Frustrated, you return to your conversation with Jade.

TT: He's not answering.   
GG: yeah hes pretty tied up right now!   
TT: Can you hassle him via Sburb and tell him to talk to me?   
TT: Bop him on the head with a puppet or something?   
GG: noooooooooooooooooooo  
GG: he made me promise not to bug him while im asleep!   
TT: Can you do it anyway?   
GG: but he will find a way to be clever and make me punch myself in the face again :(   
TT: Did he tell you what I wrote on the walls? 

Then the full import of her reply dawns on you. You read it again to be sure you read it correctly the first time. It still makes no sense.

TT: Wait.   
TT: What?

With no other constructive ideas for how to wake up, and neither of your friends able to assist you, you decide you might as well take a nap. Perhaps it will be easier to "wake up" if you are actually sleeping. You bundle up your knittings into a cozy nest. You aren't all that tired though. It's hard to imagine falling asleep without the luxury of Harley's narcolepsy.

You are overcome with a sudden lethargy, and you topple over into your scarf pile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elsewhere in Paradox Space:  
> 


	111. Act IV: Fail to Answer Your Messages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Your apartment (the roof)
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Short chapter is short, sorta cliffhanger

###  Chapter 111: Act IV: Fail To Answer Your Messages

You are unaware of Rose's whimsical request. You are a little preoccupied with the flaming red meteor you can actually see heading straight for you. Your stupid sprite is still chillin' at the top of the tower with your entry egg like a mama bird guarding its nest all like "hell no you are not getting my egg and frying it as part of this nutritious breakfast." Ain't nobody getting that egg, not even you.

You grit your teeth, and reach for the next strut. Radio towers are not really meant to be climbed, but dammit, you're not going to die.


	112. Act IV: Follow Advice from a Troll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ LOWAS (salamander village)
>   * _When:_ Time is fluid
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Trolls, drawing by a visually impaired person, plotting of cold-blooded murder/cheating

###  Chapter 112: Act IV: Follow Advice from a Troll

Eventually, you leave the village of salamanders and continue your quest.

You find your father's smashed up car near the base of the rock pillar. It is surrounded by caution tape for some reason. You are reminded to be cautious as you duck beneath the tape. 

You cautiously inspect the vehicle. To no one's surprise but yours, the package and the game are missing. 

Someone is bugging you. You slap on your serious business goggles to answer, and wish you hadn't.

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] \-- 

GC: JOHN 1TS M3 4G41N   
EB: who?   
EB: oh, that's right...   
EB: the leetspeaking blind one.   
EB: go away!   
GC: JOHN DONT M4K3 FUN OF MY H4ND1C4P   
EB: which one, the blindness or the leetspeak.   
GC: 1 4M S3NS1T1VE 4BOUT BOTH   
EB: sorry.   
GC: YOU C4N M4K3 1T UP TO M3   
GC: BY L3TT1NG M3 H3LP YOU   
EB: wow, you drive a hard bargain!   
EB: but nooooooooooooo.   
GC: B3FOR3 YOU K33P TYP1NG MOR3 STUP1D O'S 1N TH4T WORD   
GC: JUST L1ST3N 4ND DO WH4T 1 S4Y   
GC: YOU KNOW YOUR3 GO1NG TO 3V3NTU4LLY 4NYW4Y   
GC: B3C4US3 YOUR3 4 N1C3 GUY 4ND K1ND OF 4 TOT4L W33N13 PUSHOV3R   
EB: yeah, well you're a huge... 

No, don't play into her game. You're better than this.

EB: oh man, whatever, what do you even want.   
GC: 1M MOT1V4T3D BY S3LF 1NT3R3ST   
GC: TO H3LP YOU 4DV4NC3 MOR3 QU1CKLY   
GC: B3C4US3 1V3 GOT YOUR WHOL3 ADV3NTUR3 R1GHT H3R3 1N FRONT OF M3   
EB: do you have a braille screen or something?   
GC: SHHHHHHHH!   
GC: 4NYW4Y TH3 PO1NT 1S   
GC: 1TS LONG AND BOR1NG   
GC: 4ND YOU COULD ST4ND TO SK1P SOM3 ST3PS   
EB: i don't really understand.   
EB: so you can "see" my whole future there, right?   
EB: by just like, scrolling around on some computer thing that lets you pick what time to talk to me?   
EB: how can you be bored by my long boring future, why don't you just scroll around to wherever you want like the other weirdos are doing?   
GC: OK 1 C4N DO TH4T   
GC: 4ND 1 4M   
GC: 1 GU3SS WH4T 1 R34LLY M34N 1S   
GC: 1 JUST W4NT TO M3SS W1TH YOU   
EB: oh ok, that sounds really great and helpful!   
GC: 1 M34N M3SS W1TH TH3 T1M3L1N3   
GC: MY FR13NDS 4LL TH1NK TH4T YOU C4NT R34LLY CH4NG3 4NYTH1NG   
GC: TH4T YOUR T1M3L1NE W3'R3 CH4T-HOPP1NG 4ROUND 1S S3T 1N STON3   
GC: NO M4TT3R WH4T W3 S4Y OR WH3N W3 S4Y 1T   
GC: 4ND TH3YR3 PROB4BLY R1GHT   
GC: BUT 1 DONT C4R3   
GC: 1 W4NT TO M3SS W1TH 1T 4ND T4ST3 WH4T H4PPENS   
GC: >:D   
EB: sounds dumb.   
EB: but if it means you're going to help me, then go ahead and help me i guess.   
GC: L3TS G3T YOU TO TH3 G4T3 F1RST   
GC: 1TS NOT F4R   
GC: 1 SN1FF3D OUT 4 M4P OF YOUR PL4N3T   
EB: whoa, you've got a map?   
EB: where'd you get it?   
GC: JOHN W3 AR3 SO MUCH B3TT3R TH4N YOU IN 3V3RY R3SP3CT 1TS R1D1CULOUS   
EB: can i have it?   
GC: 1TS HUG3   
GC: 4ND MOSTLY 1RR3L3V4NT   
GC: H3R3 L3T M3 DR4W YOU 4 SM4LL S3CT1ON OF 1T   
GC: SHOW1NG YOU WH3R3 TO GO   
EB: ok.   
\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] sent ectoBiologist [EB] the file "GOH3R3JOHN.G1F" –- 

You look at it, and... well…

...it's less than helpful.

EB: this is the worst crap i have ever seen.    
EB: what am i looking at here?    
GC: 1TS TH3 B3ST 1 CAN DO    
GC: >:[    
EB: ok sorry but it's useless.    
EB: what's with these colors.   
GC: 1 P1CK3D ON3S TH4T SM3LL N1C3    
EB: couldn't you just, like...    
EB: crop the world map.    
EB: i thought you guys were THE BEST.    
GC: SHUT UP MY M4P 1S F1N3    
GC: LOOK 1TS NOT 3V3N TH4T F4R 4W4Y    
GC: 1LL L34D YOU TO 1T    
GC: 1TS 4 B1G P1P3    
GC: YOU JUMP 1N    
GC: TH3 W1ND W1LL T4K3 YOU TO TH3 G4T3    
GC: 1TS 4 SHORTCUT    
EB: you mean The Breeze?    
GC: Y34H WH4T3V3R    
GC: L3TS G3T MOV1NG JOHN    
GC: 4R3 YOU R34DY TO FUCK UP TH3 T1M3L1N3???    
EB: sure.

At her direction, you set off following the path down the hill.

You come to the big pipe GC was talking about, and you hop in without thinking about it too hard. It's probably kind of like riding a waterslide, if the water was stinky black oil and you aren't strictly limited to going downward. Anyway, you are expelled with a _FLURP_ into the air, along with some of your stuff. You're not sure why it's not in your sylladex.

The bunny arcs through the air (as do you, but you know what you care more about) and lands in an oil river. It is promptly washed away, heading underground. You think quickly, and manage to grab it with a ghost gauntlet, just before it is lost forever. Whew!

You take it in your grimey hands, and look around. There are two salamanders in front of you, one obviously much smaller than the other.

Oh. Oh yes. This is perfect.

You recall your favorite scene from one of your favorite movies. You can totally reunite with your loving wife and daughter.

The consorts don't move as you approach them. You clear your throat, and recite, “I got a present for you, Casey. It's a little dirty. A little rough around the edges, just like your dear old ex con dad with a _heart of gold_.” And you offer the bunny to dear sweet Casey. Then you surrender to overwhelming emotion and hug the bigger lizard with tears in your eyes.

Casey blows a spit bubble. The older salamander just looks dazed.

You pull away when you hear an alert from your sylladex. Looks like two trolls want to talk to you.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] \-- 

CG: JOHN WHAT THE WET BAG OF HUMAN HORSE SHIT TO THE FACE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING.   
CG: OH MY LORD.   
CG: NO WONDER YOU LOSERS ALL FUCK UP THIS GAME SO BAD.   
EB: what?   
EB: i am just acting out a scene from an awesome movie and having some fun, what's wrong with that?   
CG: WHAT KIND OF CRAPPY EARTH MOVIE IS THIS.   
CG: STUPID RABBIT ASSHOLE SCREWS THE POOCH?   
EB: no, it's about these criminals on a runaway plane, and they've got to be stopped by nick cage and john cusack together as a team.   
CG: OH.   
CG: OK, THAT ACTUALLY SOUNDS PRETTY GOOD I GUESS.   
EB: it is sweet, so sweet, you would probably like it. 

Because everybody should like it, it is a great movie.

CG: I'VE HEARD OF JOHN CUSACK I THINK.    
CG: WASN'T HE IN SERENDIPITY?    
CG: THAT WAS PRETTY GREAT FOR A HUMAN FLICK.    
EB: hahaha, oh man, that sucked so bad!    
CG: OK I DON'T SEE HOW WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE BECOMING FRIENDS IF YOU RECOIL FROM MY OLIVE BRANCH LIKE I'M WIGGLING A GNARLED TREE MONSTER'S DICK IN YOUR DIRECTION.    
EB: don't you have alien movies from your alien planet?    
CG: YEAH OF COURSE, WE HAVE TONS OF MOVIES AND THEY ARE INFINITELY SUPERIOR TO YOUR PRIMITIVE CINEMATIC NEANDERTHRASHINGS.    
EB: ok, so what is a really good one?    
CG: YOU'LL PROBABLY LAUGH IF I TELL YOU THE NAME OF ONE.    
EB: well, i already laughed when you said the name of one of ours, so who cares?    
CG: OK FINE.    
CG: ONE THAT IS AMAZING AND IS A CLASSIC IS...    
CG: WHEREIN NUMEROUS VIGILANTES CONFRONT PERIL; ONE OF THEM BETRAYS THE OTHERS; (BUT IT TURNS OUT TO BE PART OF THE PLAN ALL ALONG);    
CG: SEVERAL ATTRACTIVE FEMALE LEADS PROVOKE ROMANTIC TENSION; FOUR MAJOR CHARACTERS WEAR UNUSUAL HATS; ONE HOLDS PLOT-CRITICAL SECRET;   
CG: 47 ON-SCREEN EXPLOSIONS, ONE RESULTING IN DEMISE OF KEY-ADVERSARY; 6 to 20 LINES THAT COULD BE CONSTRUED AS HUMOROUS;    
EB: wait...    
EB: this is the title?    
CG: IT GOES ON.    
CG: THEY TEND TO BE MORE LITERAL AND INFORMATIVE THAN YOUR TITLES.    
EB: how do you even say them in casual conversation?    
CG: WELL WE DON'T OBVIOUSLY.    
CG: IT'S LIKE SOMEONE SAYS, HEY GUYS WHY DON'T WE GO SEE A MOVIE, AND THEN EVERYONE JUST ENDS UP THERE.    
CG: WATCHING IT.    
CG: NOT SAYING IT, THAT'S DUMB.    
CG: JOHN, TRY TO THINK OUTSIDE YOUR MINUSCULE CULTURAL BUBBLE FOR A CHANGE.    
EB: ok, i just think it's still cumbersome and completely illogical.    
CG: YEAH THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU START RUNNING OUT OF MOVIE TITLES AFTER RACKING UP THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF FILM HISTORY.    
CG: YOU KNOW I THINK YOUR CIVILIZATION JUST DIDN'T MATURE ENOUGH OR SOMETHING.    
CG: BEFORE LETTING THIS EARTH ARABIAN YOU CALL A GENIE OUT OF THE BOTTLE.    
CG: MUST EXPLAIN WHY IT SPROUTED SUCH A MISERABLE CROP OF PLAYERS.    
CG: INSTEAD OF BASICALLY GODS LIKE US.    
EB: well, i've got one of your godly players helping me now, so we can't be in such bad shape.    
CG: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT.    
EB: GC gave me a map.    
EB: and showed me a shortcut.    
CG: WHAT THE HELL IS SHE DOING.    
CG: THIS ISN'T WHAT WE TALKED ABOUT DOING AT ALL.    
CG: HOLD ON LET ME ASK HER ABOUT THIS...    
EB: ok.    
CG: OK...    
CG: NOW SHES JUST OVER THERE GIGGLING AT ME LIKE AN IMBECILE.    
CG: WHAT ARE YOU TWO UP TO, WHY ARE YOU IN CAHOOTS NOW?    
EB: umm...    
CG: OW FUCK!!!    
CG: OK SHE JUST WALKED OVER AND PUNCHED ME.    
CG: AND SAID IT WAS FROM YOU.    
EB: uh, sorry i guess?    
CG: I TOLD HER TO STOP THESE SHENANIGANS...    
CG: BUT IT SEEMS LIKE WHATEVER SHE WAS DOING WITH YOU SHE ALREADY DID A WHILE AGO.    
CG: FROM MY PERSPECTIVE AT LEAST.    
EB: i don't know why you guys are doing this to yourselves.    
EB: all this time jackassery, it's giving me a headache.    
CG: OK IF YOU TALK TO HER AGAIN WHEN SHE TRIES HATCHING MORE PLANS GIVE HER A MESSAGE INTO THE PAST FOR ME.    
EB: ok.    
CG: TELL HER TO POLISH MY HEAVING BONE BULGE AND SET A TABLE FOR FUCKING TWO ON IT.    
CG: ITS FOR OUR CANDLE LIGHT HATE DATE.    
EB: i like how you guys have basically resorted to trolling each other, through us.    
CG: FUCK YOU.    
EB: oh, did you talk to jade yet?    
CG: JADE, WHAT WHY WOULD I WANT TO TALK TO HER?    
EB: ummm, that's what you said you wanted to do last time you talked to me, i dunno.    
CG: OH DAMMIT.    
CG: ARE YOU SURE?    
EB: yeah, you told me dude.    
EB: want me to paste the conversation?    
CG: NO NO, GOD NO, I HATE IT WHEN WE START GOING DOWN THAT ROAD.    
CG: OK THIS IS GOING TO REQUIRE FURTHER INVESTIGATION.    
CG: I'VE GOT TO GO.    
EB: ok.    
EB: but next time you talk to me, you might want to tell me to calm down first so i don't just block you.    
EB: back then i won't really want to hear from you.    
CG: OK, I'LL DO THAT.    
EB: later.

Then you answer the other troll. Hey, what do you know, it's GC!

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] \-- 

GC: H3H3H3H3H3   
GC: JOHN STOP HUGG1NG THOS3 S4L4M4ND3RS 4ND B31NG SO STUPIDLY 4DOR4BLE 

At least someone appreciates your reenactment of great cinema.

GC: W3 4R3 ON 4 STR1CT CH3AT1NG T1M3T4BL3 H3R3   
GC: W41T WHO 4R3 YOU T4LK1NG TO NOW   
GC: 1S 1T ON3 OF US   
GC: 1S 1T M3???   
EB: it was carcino.   
GC: H4H4H4H4H4   
GC: 1 B3T H3 1S CONFUS3D 4ND GRUMPY   
EB: yeah, sorta.   
EB: he has no idea what you're doing.   
GC: 1 H34R H1M OV3R TH3R3 B4NG1NG ON THOS3 K3YS   
GC: 1 TH1NK TH1S WHOL3 TH1NG 1S JUST 4 W4Y TO V3NT SOM3 FRUSTR4T1ON   
GC: H3 H4S NO PURPOS3 Y3T   
GC: NOT L1K3 YOU 4ND M3 JOHN >:D   
EB: oh, he said to give you a message...   
GC: OH >:?   
EB: he wants you to touch his bone lump or something.   
GC: WH4T!!!   
EB: and that he's pretty much basically in love with you.   
GC: W41T   
GC: D1D H3 4CTU4LLY S4Y TH4T   
GC: 1N CONF1D3NC3   
EB: yeah, i dunno, pretty much.   
GC: C4N YOU COPY 3X4CTLY WH4T H3 S41D   
EB: ohhh no, we're not going down that road! 

You think your interpretation is more fun... for you.

EB: besides, it was a private conversation among private gentlemen colleagues.   
EB: oh, also you're going to punch him.   
GC: 1 4M   
GC: WH3N   
EB: i guess in your future.   
EB: but in your pretty soon future i think.   
EB: it's when he says stuff to you and then you laugh at him.   
GC: BUT 1M 4LW4YS L4UGH1NG 4T H1M   
GC: HOW W1LL 1 KNOW?????   
EB: also he says you said it's from me.   
GC: FROM YOU   
GC: DO YOU W4NT M3 TO PUNCH H1M JOHN   
EB: pffff, i don't care!   
EB: i'm just the timey-wimey messenger here.   
GC: 1M SUR3 M4NY H1GHLY JUST1F1ABL3 4ND W3LL D3S3RV3D PUNCH3S W1LL B3 THROWN 1N DU3 T1M3   
GC: BUT L3TS ST1CK TO TH3 G4M3PL4N FOR NOW   
GC: JOHN T4K3 4 LOOK 4T WH3R3 TH3 SHORTCUT TOOK YOU   
GC: TURN 4ROUND >:]

You turn around. There is some kind of green building, with huge gray spikes or something coming out of the middle. And rivers of oil pouring out and over the edges of the plateau, and also it looks like a lot of pipes come from here. The path you're standing on leads toward it, but it looks like the bridge is out. You're really okay with that, because the bridge was made of rope and wood, and probably wasn't very sturdy. But where the path comes against the edge of the cliff, there's another glowing blue gate floating in the air.

You're... not sure what you're supposed to do here. You'd better ask.

EB: oh, wow.   
EB: what's that?   
GC: 1TS YOUR D3N1Z3NS P4L4C3   
EB: my denizen?   
GC: 3V3RY PL4N3T H4S 4 D3N1Z3N   
GC: TH4T L1V3S D33P UND3RGROUND   
GC: SL33P1NG   
GC: 4ND GU4RD1NG 4 HUG3 GR1ST HO4RD   
EB: ok...   
GC: TH3 W4Y DOWN TO 1TS L41R 1S THROUGH TH3 P4L4C3   
EB: so you want me to go down there and kill him?   
EB: won't that be, uh, kinda hard?   
GC: H4H4H4H4H4H4   
GC: ORD1N4R1LY YOUD H4V3 4BSOLUT3LY NO CH4NC3   
GC: 4T YOUR M34G3R L3V3L   
GC: BUT YOU H4V3 4N 4DV4NT4G3   
EB: oh?   
GC: USU4LLY HOW 1TS SUPPOS3D TO GO 1S   
GC: OV3R TH3 COURS3 OF YOUR QU3ST   
GC: YOU W1LL W4K3 TH3 D3N1Z3N   
GC: 4ND TH3N F1N4LLY YOU GO THROUGH TH3 S3V3NTH G4T3   
GC: WH1CH 1S TH3 ONLY W4Y 1NTO TH3 P4L4C3   
GC: TH3N YOU GO DOWN 4ND F1GHT TH3 D3N1Z3N   
GC: 4ND K1LL 1T   
GC: R3L3AS1NG TH3 HO4RD   
EB: so what's my advantage?   
GC: YOU WONT BOTH3R W4K1NG 1T   
GC: W3 W1LL SK1P R1GHT TO TH3 S3V3NTH G4T3   
GC: F1ND 1TS L41R   
GC: 4ND K1LL 1T 1N 1TS SL33P   
EB: um, ok.   
EB: what's the point of releasing the grist hoard?   
EB: is it just so i can make tons more sweet loot?   
GC: H3H3 NO W4Y   
GC: TH3 HO4RD CONT41NS SO MUCH MOR3 GR1ST TH4N YOU COULD 3V3R US3 1N 4N 4LCH3M1T3R   
GC: 1 M34N YOU COULD 1 GU3SS   
GC: BUT TH4TS NOT TH3 PO1NT   
GC: 1TS FOR TH3 ULT1M4T3 4LCH3MY 

You're getting confused again.

EB: what's the ultimate alchemy?   
GC: 1TS NOTH1NG FOR YOU TO WORRY 4BOUT NOW   
GC: S33 TH4T G4T3 OV3R BY TH3 BROK3N BR1DG3   
GC: GO CH3CK 1T OUT   
EB: alright.

You and Casey and the bunny head down the path to stand next to the gate. 

EB: so this is the seventh gate?   
EB: that'll take me into the palace and down to the sleeping denizen?   
GC: NOP3 >:]   
GC: TH1S 1S JUST 4 S1MPL3 R3TURN NOD3   
GC: TH3R3 4R3 LOTS OF TH3S3 4ROUND   
GC: JUST HOP 1N   
GC: DONT WORRY 1LL G3T YOU TO TH3 G4T3 SOON 4FT3R TH4T

Well, here goes nothing. You hop into the gate.

A moment later you are standing in your room. You await further instruction.

GC sends you out to the Alchemiter. The jumbled rocket pack thing is still sitting against the wall.

GC: JOHN S33 TH4T B1G P13C3 OF JUNK TH3R3   
EB: the rocket pack?   
GC: Y34H C4PTCH4LOGU3 TH4T 4ND S3ND M3 TH3 COD3   
GC: 1 GOT TH3 COD3S FOR 4LL TH3 OTH3R 34RTH CR4P STUCK 1NS1D3 1T FROM YOUR FR13NDS   
GC: FROM D1FF3R3NT T1M3S   
GC: WH3N TH3Y W3R3 F33L1NG COOP3R4T1V3   
GC: 1 C4N M4K3 1T WORK FOR YOU >:]   
EB: ok...   
EB: but you can't just "subtract" object codes from other codes!   
EB: it's like, mathematically, um...   
EB: ambiguous.   
EB: like just reverse AND/OR'ing the flower pot alone could make hundreds of possibilities.   
EB: subtracting all three could be millions!   
GC: Y34H W3LL 1M NOT S4Y1NG 1M 4NYWH3R3 N34R 4S HUG3 OF 4 DORK 4S YOU   
GC: OR TH4T 1 UND3RST4ND 4NY OF TH4T   
GC: COMPUT3R COD3S T4ST3 TO M3 L1K3   
GC: LOTS OF T1NY N33DL3S 4ND B4TT3R13S   
EB: wow, what?   
GC: 1M G1V1NG 4LL TH3S3 COD3S TO OUR H4CK3R GUY 

You perk up, suddenly excited.

EB: oh man, you have a hacker??   
EB: i bet he is THE BEST!!!!   
EB: hackers are always the best.   
GC: H4H4H4H4H4   
GC: W3LL H3 SUR3 TH1NKS H3 1S   
EB: who is it?   
EB: have i talked to him?   
GC: NO H3 S4YS H3 DO3SNT W4NT TO T4LK TO 4NY OF YOU 3V3R   
GC: B3C4US3 H3 H4T3S YOU   
GC: BUT H3 W1LL DO TH1S   
GC: B3C4US3 H3 WONT B3 4BL3 TO R3S1ST TH3 CH4LL3NG3   
EB: uh, ok.   
EB: brb then.

You captchalogue the rocket pack.

EB: ok here...   
EB: dskjhsdk   
GC: TH4NKS   
GC: W41T   
GC: THOS3 K1ND4 S33M L1K3 R4NDOM K3Y M4SH1NGS   
GC: 4R3 YOU M3SS1NG W1TH M3 JOHN >:?   
EB: um, no.   
EB: they sort of are random.   
EB: but it's the right code, i promise!   
GC: OH   
GC: OK B3 B4CK IN L3SS TH4N ON3 S3COND   
GC: PCHOOOOO

You eye the imps on the stairs next to you while you wait. Casey is still following you about, and you can't let her get hurt. You pull out the wrinklefucker and take out two of them, but there are more coming up behind you.

Impatient, you pester GC.

EB: hello?   
GC: WH4T   
EB: it thought you said you'd be back in less than a second?   
GC: 1 W4S   
GC: 1 G4V3 YOU TH3 COD3   
GC: 1TS PCHOOOOO   
GC: 1T TOOK 4 WH1L3 FOR H1M TO F1GUR3 OUT   
GC: BUT 1 G4V3 IT TO YOU 1NST4NTLY FROM YOUR P3RSP3CT1V3   
GC: WHY WOULD 1 M4K3 YOU W41T???   
GC: TH4T WOULD B3 SO 1NCONS1D3R4T3 >:[   
EB: oh...   
EB: i just thought that was just you going off to get the code...   
EB: and making like this rockety noise or something, i dunno.   
EB: because you're kind of goofy.   
GC: W3LL YOUR3 K1ND OF   
GC: W3LCOM3   
GC: YOU UNGR4T3FUL 34RTH HORS3S NO1SY BUTTHOL3!!!   
EB: oh gosh, i'm sooooo sorry!   
EB: this is just a stupid code, i'm sorry.   
EB: are you sure it's right, it seems kind of...   
EB: obvious.   
GC: H3 W4S CONV1NC3D TH1S 1S TH3 R1GHT COD3 4ND H4D SOM3 UNFL4TT3R1NG TH1NGS TO S4Y 4BOUT TH3 1NT3LLIG3NC3 OF YOUR SP3C13S FOR NOT B31NG 4BL3 TO FIGUR3 1T OUT   
GC: WH1CH 1 W1LL K33P TO MYS3LF B3C4US3 UNL1K3 YOU 1 4CTU4LLY H4V3 SOM3 FUCK1NG M4NN3RS   
EB: bluuuh, oh man, i got so served, bluuuuuuuuuh!   
GC: 1 4M UNF4Z3D BY YOUR HUM4N BLUHS   
GC: 4NYW4Y 1F 1T W4S SO OBV1OUS WHY D1DNT YOU GU3SS TH3 COD3?????   
EB: well you see, the explanation is perfectly simple and scientific.   
EB: it was because shut up.   
EB: shut up is why.   
GC: >:D   
EB: i guess i'll make this rocket now.   
EB: and see if this dumbass code actually does the trick.   
GC: OK JOHN   
GC: ONC3 YOU M4K3 1T 1M SUR3 3V3N YOU 4ND YOUR UND3RD3V3LOP3D BON3 NOOK W1LL B3 4BL3 TO F1GUR3 OUT WH4T TO DO   
GC: T4LK TO YOU ON TH3 OTH3R S1D3 >:] 

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased trolling ectoBiologist [EB] \--

You successfully alchemize a functional rocket pack. You climb onto the platform and strap yourself in. Before you can take it for a spin, though, Dave pesters you.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] -- 

TG: ok im in    
EB: in where?   
TG: the medium    
EB: oh, already?    
TG: what do you mean already shit took 4 goddamn hours    
EB: huh, i guess time flew by while i was doing other stuff.    
EB: how did it go?    
EB: with you and jade i guess?    
TG: i dont want to talk about it    
TG: imagine the worst day of my life    
TG: just stood up and clinked a glass like it was about to give a speech    
TG: then took a shit in my dinner and passed out with its pants down    
EB: ew dog! ewwww!    
TG: yeah    
EB: so nasty! gross dude!!!    
TG: stfu    
TG: what are you doing    
EB: i'm in a rocket pack and i am about to blast off into space.    
TG: ok    
EB: it should be sweet.    
TG: i need some advice    
TG: my kernelsprite which was this brainless feathery asshole with a sword in it    
TG: turned into this bigger like ghostly feathery asshole    
TG: with a sword in it    
TG: it seems to want me to prototype it again    
TG: not sure what to do    
EB: hmm...    
EB: have you asked rose?    
TG: shes asleep for some reason    
EB: wow, really?    
TG: yeah i saw her there    
TG: all tuckered out    
TG: like she got smacked in the face with a pillow case full of the snooze wizards beard dander    
TG: cause obviously its fuckin prime time for swiping some shuteye about now    
TG: like a few hours into her magic stupid quest    
TG: anyway what do you think    
EB: i don't really know, i mean...    
EB: it's supposed to be like your ghostly spirit guide or something.    
EB: unless you have the remains of a wise old dead grandparent lying around, i'm not sure what to tell you!    
TG: ok fine but    
TG: it seems to be suggesting something here    
TG: and    
TG: i guess im kinda weirded out by its suggestion    
EB: i don't know, just do what it says!    
EB: it knows stuff about the game, so it probably knows better than i do...    
EB: i gotta go!    
EB: gonna blast off to the seventh gate.    
EB: and, uh, win this game i guess.    
TG: ok well it definitely sounds like youre fucking something up over there    
TG: but alright later    
EB: later.

Casey crawls up on the platform with you. You eye the crowd of imps on your balcony. This is absolutely no place for children. You take dear, sweet Casey into protective custody. By which you mean you stick her in your sylladex, bunny and all.

Then you blast off, aiming around the gate just above your roof so you can reach the one way way way above you.

_PCHOOOOO._


	113. Act IV: Accelerate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle your seatbelt folks, this ride is about to get bumpier than the rickety old roller coaster at your county fair.
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Land of Heat and Clockwork (LOHAC)
>   * _When:_ You are the Time master. It is you.
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> (highlight for spoilery warning) Major character death, time shenanigans, cliffhanger

###  Chapter 113: Act IV: Accelerate

The Land of Heat and Clockwork is covered in lava. It would have to be, to balance out your incredible coolness. You don't know how the half-constructed buildings made out of scaffolding and massive turning gears manage not to melt, and you don't care. You just stay out of the streams of lava.

Gate five drops you onto a gear floating sideways in the air. You immediately stand and hold out your broadsword. Even broken off halfway down the blade, it's still a massive weapon requiring two hands to swing it properly, and you are fond of the black and red record decorating the hilt. The record on the right side of your white suit jacket looks similar, though it has a scratch through it. You're wearing a red bow-tie for ironic purposes.

After not even a second, you move. There are other gears floating next to you, populated by amber and rust imps. You start leaping and flipping through the air. It only takes one blow each to take the imps down. You hardly even need to be in two places at once.

Calsprite takes on a pair of sulfur ogres with his deadly stream of puppets. It doesn't disturb you as much as it used to. Then he takes them out by morphing into a massive smuppet. You know better than to watch.

You make another jump, and as you do the broken blade of your sword reforms. You need it for the two ogres you're about to school.

You give yourself a nod when you start collecting the grist. Then you call up your timetables and give them a spin. When you stop, there are basilisks to take out, and grist you knew you would collect. Then a ruby giclops gets your sword sweeping down from above.

The enemies cleared, you land on a gear. Calsprite appears next to you, mouth chattering.

Yeah, this guy still creeps you the fuck out.

"HAA HAA HEE HEE HOO HOO"   
"shut up"   
"HOO HOO HAA HAA HEE HEE"   
"HEE HEE HAA HAA HOO HOO"   
"no"   
"just"   
"god damn it"   
"HEE HEE HEE HEE HAA HAA"   
"HEE HEE HOO HOO HEE HEE"   
"please"   
"just once"   
"shut the hell up"   
"HOO HOO HAA HEE HEE HOO"   
"HOO HOO HEE HAA HEE HAA"   
"HAA HAA HAA HAA HAA HAA"   
"shut up"   
"HEE HEE HEE HAA HAA HAA"   
"HOO HOO HOO HEE HEE HEE"   
"shut"   
"HAA HAA HEE HEE HOO HOO"   
"the"   
"HAA HAA HEE HEE HOO HOO"   
"fuck"   
"HAA HAA HEE HEE HOO HOO"   
"up"   
CALSPRITE:

You take a seat on a metal I-beam above you, and turn on your iShades. You alchemized your iPhone with your aviators a long time ago, and they have more than proved their worth. 

You message the only person you have left to talk to.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] -- 

TG: thats it i cant take it anymore   
TG: it was such a huge mistake prototyping seppucrow with this useless mindnumbing jackass   
TG: im going back   
TT: Already?   
TG: what do you mean already shit took 4 goddamn months   
TG: or something   
TG: i dont know im kind of losing track of how long its been with all this time hopping   
TT: It just sounds like you're making a rash decision based on temporary aggravation with a laughing puppet.   
TT: I thought we planned to progress as far as we could before you went back.   
TT: To gather information, and avoid repeating mistakes.   
TG: what else is there to know   
TG: we lost 

Lost harder than a bunch of quirky underdogs right before coach inspired them to come together for the big sports game.

TG: cant finish the game with a dead heir and witch   
TT: We don't know Jade is dead for sure. 

Oh, what the hell is she playing at?

TG: yeah well she had a big fucking meteor bearing down on her and we never heard from her again   
TG: or the trolls for that matter   
TG: after they tricked john into skipping way ahead and getting his ass handed to him by the denizen 

Stupid, naïve, trusting John. You'd smack him for that if you could.

TG: i guess once they managed to sabotage us they were done with us   
TG: and since john died he couldnt get jade in on time so whether shes alive or not shes as good as dead from our perspective   
TG: only thing left to do is change all that 

God, let it work.

TT: Are you sure you're ready?   
TT: You'll remember the plan we discussed?   
TG: theres not much to remember   
TG: i go back and tell john not to be an idiot and get trolled like such a gullible stooge   
TG: i dont know what he was thinking   
TG: even we couldnt kill one of those things yet   
TG: with our higher levels and all our sick gear   
TT: It still seems hasty to me.   
TT: Maybe I'm just not as comfortable with time travel as you.   
TG: nah itll be fine dont worry 

Mot like it could get much worse, right?

TT: After you go, what do you think will happen to me?   
TT: Will I just cease to exist? 

That's something you've been trying not to think about. What might happen to her, and what will probably happen to you.

TG: i dont know   
TG: i mean your whole timeline will   
TG: maybe   
TT: Maybe?   
TT: Is there a chance it'll continue to exist, and I'll just be here alone forever?   
TT: I'm not sure which outcome is more unsettling.   
TG: the thing with time travel is   
TG: you cant overthink it 

Don't think don't think don'tthink

TG: just roll with it and see what happens   
TG: and above all try not to do anything retarded   
TT: What do you think I should do? 

She must be really tied up in knots about this to be asking you for advice. She's been so grimly collected this whole time.

Then again, you wouldn't want to be left totally alone in a doomed universe either.

TG: try going to sleep   
TG: our dream selves kind of operate outside the normal time continuum i think   
TG: so if part of you from this timelines going to persist thats probably the way to make it happen   
TT: Ok.   
TG: and hey you might even be able to help your past dream self wake up sooner without all that fuss you went through   
TT: I think the true purpose of this game is to see how many qualifiers we can get to precede the word "self" and still understand what we're talking about. 

Oh good, back to slightly facetious analyzing of the game. Serious talk over.

TG: the true purpose is to make a sprite that doesnt make me want to flog myself raw with my own brain stem 

And to keep your friends from fucking dying—serious talk over, right

TG: anything else is gravy   
TT: If my past self can wake up sooner, maybe I'll be the one to visit you first this time.   
TT: I'll fly by and remind you you're already awake and don't know it.   
TG: yeah thatd be cool i guess   
TG: im gonna go now   
TT: Good luck.

Like luck ever changed anything. You shut off your iShades with that little bit of purple text as your send-off.

You get out your timetables again. They are made portable by spinning red gears beneath them. You set your hands on them, and reverse time itself.

<<

<<  
<<

<<  
<<  
<<  
<<

When you entered the medium, only your apartment and roof came with you, perched atop the bare metal structure of the rest of the building. The smuppet nest at the top of the radio tower provides a splash of color in the otherwise pitch black sky.

You arrive just in time. Your past self is standing in front of his crowsprite, who is floating over the dismembered remains of Lil Cal. Dave is holding his shitty broken katana in one hand and his iPhone in the other as he messages John.

“Don't let him go!” The words are out of your mouth the very instant you arrive between past-Dave and the sprite. He's quick on the uptake. Of course he is, he's you.

TG: WAIT   
EB: what?   
TG: dont go yet   
TG: somethings up   
EB: ugh...

“If he goes, he'll die. And then you'll be stuck with Lil Cal for four months.” Past-you gives you a once-over before continuing his conversation with John.

TG: ok its me from the future   
EB: huh?   
TG: its me   
TG: i just appeared   
TG: from the future   
TG: wearing a rad suit   
TG: he says dont go   
TG: or youre gonna die   
EB: pfffff.   
EB: lame.   
EB: what kind of gullible stooge do you think i am?

You roll your eyes behind your shades. “I dunno, gullible enough to trust a leetspeaking troll who wants him dead, and strap on a rocket pack 'cause she said to. I dunno what's more gullible than that.”

TG: he says i dunno gullible enough to trust a leetspeaking troll who wants you dead and strap on a rocket pack cause she said to   
EB: this is like some terrible april fools prank.   
EB: but 13 days too late.   
EB: remember, you are talking to the pranking MASTER.   
TG: ok that was probably the dumbest thing you ever said just now   
EB: if future you is real, then why don't you let me talk to him. 

You can totally do that. You never deleted his chumhandle. You send a request, but don't stop watching past-you's screen.

TG: do you hear what youre saying oh my god   
TG: this guy is me if i get him to talk to you youre just talking to me again jesus it proves nothing   
EB: hold on, someone else is bugging me. 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] -- 

TG: john stop being a tool and unbuckle yourself from that piece of shit   
TG: if our friendship means anything youll listen to me and past dave 

Come to think of it, that might be too subtle. Better make it clear who you are.

TG: this is future dave by the way   
EB: hahaha!   
EB: wow, you're really pulling out all the stops for this stunt!   
EB: using your phone and computer at the same time to message me.   
EB: you're kind of going through a lot of trouble actually, i don't know why you're bothering with this.

This is just so John. God you missed the little fucker.

TG: yeah exactly why would i bother   
TG: this sort of cornball horseshit is your cup of tea not mine   
TG: dont make me track you down through time and stop you in person   
EB: you can't track down through time WHAT YOU CAN'T CATCH!   
EB: pchoooooo!   
TG: oh god did you just blast off 

You are not panicking you are not panicking you are not panicking

EB: no...   
EB: but that would have been sweet if i did just then. 

Your shoulders relax, the equivalent of a sigh of relief.

TG: ok well just dont ok   
TG: im turning this timeline over to past dave   
TG: and helping you all stay alive and do this thing the right way this time   
TG: just stay on the goddamn ground for fucks sake   
EB: ok, i guess...

With John's reluctant agreement, you get on with the plan. You set down two stacks of captchalogue cards in front of past you. You swap out your rad suit for the same scratched-record t-shirt past you is currently wearing. Then you launch yourself in a backflip into the tier-one prototyped sprite.

Your vision whites out and everything changes.

 

Too bad, you don't get to keep the t-shirt, or your legs. You do keep the shades. The wings are okay, and the katana through your middle is kinda badass. You are also very orange.

Dave says “hey”

You say “sup”

Hell, this is already more meaningful than a conversation with Calsprite.

Before you can help out past-you, you've got some unfinished business to take care of with a certain murderous troll. 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC] \-- 

TG: dont talk to john anymore hes an impressionable doofus   
TG: your plan didnt work   
TG: i mean it did   
TG: but then suddenly it didnt   
TG: so you might as well quit trying   
GC: YOU SM3LL L1K3 OR4NG3 CR34MS1CL3S 

Okay, that doesn't even remotely make sense.

TG: what   
TG: youre aliens do you even have orange creamsicles   
GC: OF COURS3 WH4T K1ND OF 4WFUL C1V1L1Z4T1ON WOULDNT 1NV3NT OR4NG3 CR34MS1CL3S   
GC: NOT ON3 1D W4NT 4NYTH1NG TO DO W1TH   
TG: ok pretty far fetched but whatever   
TG: no more hijinks from you cause ill make sure they wont work   
GC: W3LL OBV1OUSLY 1 KN3W 1T W4SNT GO1NG TO WORK   
GC: MY FR13NDS H4V3 B33N T4LK1NG TO JOHN FROM TH3 FUTUR3   
GC: YOUR FUTUR3   
GC: WH3R3 H3S NOT D34D   
GC: SO TH3R3 W4S NO W4Y WH4T 1 D1D W4S GO1NG TO K1LL H1M   
GC: 1 JUST W4NT3D TO M3SS W1TH H1M 4ND STUFF   
TG: i dont think youre following   
TG: you DID kill him sort of 

And you are still pissed about that.

TG: then i went back in time to stop him   
GC: Y34H 1 G3USS3D TH3R3 W4S 4 CH4NC3 SOM3TH1NG L1K3 TH4T M1GHT H4PP3N   
TG: alright but   
TG: did you guess that by trolling john to his grave   
TG: and making me splinter us off into an alt timeline   
TG: that you were basically complicit in making our timeline go the way it was supposed to go all along   
TG: where future me is now helping dave and we just keep playing   
TG: and our actions ultimately lead to the trouble youre all in now   
TG: thus leading you all to troll us incompetently   
GC: OH   
GC: NO >:[   
GC: 1 D1DNT TH1NK OF TH4T   
TG: yeah   
TG: see   
TG: none of you ever thinks anything through   
TG: whos in charge of timeline management there   
TG: i gotta give him the business   
GC: SH3 DO3SNT W4NT TO T4LK TO 4NY OF YOU   
GC: 4ND H4S M1SG1V1NGS 4BOUT TH1S WHOL3 TH1NG   
GC: NOT 4LL OF US 4R3 TH4T 3NTHUS1AST1C 4BOUT TROLL1NG YOU GUYS   
GC: 4ND TH3 ON3S WHO 4R3 SORT OF SUCK 4T 1T >:|   
TG: well at least you got john to off himself so i guess youre not totally incompetent like the others   
TG: like that awful rapper   
GC: SO JOHN 4CTU4LLY D1D WH4T 1 S41D?   
TG: yeah   
TG: im telling you   
TG: huge pushover   
TG: he will do what you say   
TG: unless it happens to be for his own good   
TG: then all a sudden hes a tough nut to crack go figure   
GC: NOW 1 F33L K1ND4 B4D   
GC: 4R3 YOU SUR3 1 C4NT T4LK TO H1M   
GC: 3V3N 1F 1TS JUST TO 4POLOG1Z3   
GC: WOULD TH4T B3 OK W1TH YOU S1R BR4V3 KN1GHT >:?   
TG: yeah thats fine i guess   
TG: no more coy bullshit antics though   
TG: not even like   
TG: an idiotic angry winking emote   
GC: OR WH4T   
GC: YOUR3 GO1NG TO HUNT M3 DOWN THROUGH T1M3 OOOOOH OH NO   
GC: >;]   
TG: yeah   
GC: YOU DO R34L1Z3 1M W4Y H1GH3R ON MY 3CH3L4DD3R TH4N YOU   
GC: 3V3N 1F YOU 4R3 FROM TH3 FUTUR3   
GC: 4R3 YOU SUR3 YOU W4NT TO G3T YOUR CLOCK3D CL34N3D BY 4 BL1ND CH1CK   
TG: ok even if thats true   
TG: i just merged with an impaled orange goddamn bird and now i got all these crazy powers   
GC: UGH   
GC: S3LF PROTOTYP1NG SO DUMB   
GC: TH1S 1S WHY YOU 4LL SCR3W UP SO B4D   
GC: 4LW4YS B3ND1NG TH3 RUL3S L1K3 TH4T   
GC: OH W3LL C4NT STOP YOU NOW SO M1GHT 4S W3LL DROP 1T   
GC: H3Y D4V3   
TG: what   
GC: 1V3 B33N R3S34RCH1NG SOM3 OF YOUR 34RTH SO4P OP3R4S   
GC: [1S TH1S YOU ](http://tinyurl.com/1STH1SYOUD4V3)

You go ahead and click the link to see some douche from a 90's kids' TV show. Seriously, do you look like a tree-hugging do-gooder?

TG: oh jegus fuck no   
TG: why would that breathtaking douche remind you of me at all   
GC: BUT H3 H4S 4 F13RY P3RSON4LITY   
GC: SORT OF BR4SH 4ND 1MP3TUOUS   
GC: 4ND 1N YOUR F4C3   
GC: L1K3 F1R3 1TS3LF >:D   
TG: now i know youre bullshitting me   
TG: do i seem like the kind of guy whod accept a magic ring from whoopi goldberg   
TG: to awaken some egregious homofantasy for a ripped blue dudes mammoth eco friendly bulge   
TG: that guys an asshole and needs to be sealed in a dufflebag and whipped something ungodly with a bamboo chute   
GC: WHOS WHOOP1 GOLDB3RG   
TG: who cares   
GC: OK 1 M4D3 SOM3 MOD1F1C4T1ONS   
GC: [TH1S 1S SO YOU D4V3 COM3 ON 4DM1T 1T ](http://tinyurl.com/1T1SYOU1SNT1T)

The modifications are red shades drawn off-center so they're only half on the dude's face, a barely recognizable scratched record across the front of his shirt, and the shitty drawing of a shitty broken sword floating just beyond his fist.

TG: ahahahahaha   
TG: ok yeah that is pretty much fucking spot on   
TG: youre actually a pretty good troll   
TG: as long as you dont bug john i guess thats all there is to say on the matter   
GC: TH4NKS D4V3   
GC: TO B3 F41R   
GC: 1M SUR3 3V3RY ON3 OF US W1SH3S W3 THOUGHT OF FUTUR3 S3LF PROTOTYP1NG F1RST   
GC: SO   
GC: YOUR3 NOT R34LLY 4LL TH4T T3RR1BL3 >;]

“who were you talking to”

You close pesterchum so you can look at past-you properly. He's put away all your loot and switched to the rad suit you were wearing.

“just telling a troll to step off”

“ok cool. so now that youre a sprite do you know everything about the game”

You briefly take mental inventory. “well i knew a lot anyway cause im from the future, but yeah i know more stuff now. like things meant specifically for sprites to clue players in on but packaged in these like, i guess riddles. im supposed to be cagey about it.” Yeah, that is so not cool. “but i dont really feel like it. ask me anything go ahead ill give you a straight answer”

“alright here goes: why are we so fucking awesome” he deadpans.

You don't laugh. You almost want to. “thats the best fucking question anybody ever asked”

“yeah. so is everything cool with this john business, is he gonna be ok?”

You decide not to mock your past self for the worry implied by the question. You get it. “thats up to him, if he decides to wise up and listen to us. if not then we just bail everyone out yet again.” Although with the trolls talking to you, this timeline must be on track for now.

“ok”

"all that gear you picked up should let you breeze through the first couple gates, even at a low level. later youll unlock the ability to bring your sprite down with you and we'll take care of shit together." You're totally going to be better at taking care of shit than Calsprite, no question. "til then i guess just mess around and let jade build up or whatever. ill go kill some time, maybe draw some comics"

“like what” 

"i dont know. whats the last one you did" 

“i was in the middle of the nancho party arc” 

“oh yeah. i gave up on that half way through” 

“yeah that was sorta the plan. making a ten part story about nachos was always a bullshit idea” 

You remember thinking that at some point. “lets do some brainstorming later. blow everyones minds” 

“yeah sure” 

You and Dave bunp fists. You don't even know which of you thought of it first. 


	114. Act IV: Reconsider Taking Advice From Strangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Trolls, troll biology, game mechanics

###  Chapter 114: Act IV: Reconsider Taking Advice From Strangers

You are ascending toward the seventh gate with all the speed your rocketpack can give you. Any noises you make are instantly ripped away by the wind. Woo!

But you can't quite enjoy it as much as you might like. Dave's prank niggles at you.You remember opening Dave's present mere hours ago. You were so thrilled with your awesome bunny that you almost didn't read the note from your best bro Dave.

so hey 

since its your bday i had to get you back for the sick memorabilia you got me so i got you this godawful thing and now i just know youre standing there flipping your shit over it so youre welcome. 

its the actual gross bunny in the movie so that means nick cage actually grubbed it up with his clownish no talent fingers. i would suggest you put it somewhere and display it ironically but i know youre dead serious about this ridiculous shit so youll probably sleep with the damn thing and nibble its ear and stuff. 

but the weird thing is thats whats cool about you. youre this naive guy like pinocchio tumbled ass backwards off the turnip truck and started liking ghostbusters. then the fairy godmother kissed your nose or some shit and you turned out to be not made of wood and also pretty cool to talk to. one day your gooberish ways are gonna land you in a jam and i know im going to have to get you off the hook but its cool i got your back bro. 

then we'll meet and hug bump and get each others filthy wife beaters that much filthier so yeah 

peace dawg 

tg

It occurs to you that he promised to have your back, and you might be making a huge mistake.

Just before reaching the seventh gate, you  
re  
  co  
     n  
      s    er  
        id

You abruptly turn and dive away from the gate, doing some swooping and loops instead. You fly over your land beneath the flickering lights.

TG: did you blast off like a spazzy douche yet or what   
EB: yeah, of course!   
EB: there was no way i wasn't trying out this sweet ride.   
TG: god dammit what do i have to do to make you believe me   
TG: fist bump my future self til i got bloody knuckles and write you an even sappier bday note in my own blood   
TG: on a back to the future poster   
EB: relax, i'm not going through the gate!   
EB: i am just flying around, and having a good time in the sky.   
TG: oh ok   
TG: so you believe me then   
TG: about future me   
TG: and like   
TG: him turning into a floating sword bird   
EB: um... 

To be honest, that still sounds really weird to you.

EB: ok, i don't know anything about that...   
EB: but it doesn't matter!   
EB: you're my best bro, and if you say not to go then i won't go.   
EB: hey, can you hold on?   
EB: i'm getting trolled again.   
TG: oh man and if weve just concluded anything its that talking to those dbags should be priority number one so yeah go right ahead   
EB: ok, brb.

Somewhat to your surprise, it's not the leetspeaking blind girl trolling you.

CG: I KEEP SCROLLING BACKWARDS THROUGH YOUR ADVENTURE.   
CG: TRYING TO PIECE TOGETHER HOW YOU BOTCH THIS UP SO BADLY.   
CG: AND I KEEP FINDING THESE STRIKING POCKETS OF FOOLISHNESS.   
CG: LIKE WHAT YOU'RE DOING NOW.   
CG: RIDING YOUR LITTLE RED ROCKET.   
CG: LIKE YOU ARE A FRESHLY HATCHED HUMAN LARVA AND THIS IS JUST ALL A BIG SCHOOLHIVE RUMPUS RESPITE.   
EB: humans aren't hatched as larvae dummy.   
EB: we don't hatch at all.   
EB: we are born as these like little pink monkeys called babies.   
CG: BULLSHIT.   
CG: THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU JUST TOLD ME.   
EB: what did i say?   
CG: I'LL PASTE WHAT YOU SAID.   
EB: i thought you didn't like going down that road?   
EB: copy-pasting future/past conversations...   
CG: WHY WOULD I HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT.   
EB: i dunno, that's what you just told me.   
CG: WHATEVER, LOOK:   
CG: EB: this is really weird...   
CG: CG: WHAT'S SO WEIRD ABOUT IT.   
CG: EB: well, normally humans hatch...   
CG: EB: from like these slimy pods.   
CG: EB: then we wriggle out as a little pink larva.   
CG: CG: OH REALLY.   
CG: CG: HUH, MAYBE WE HAVE MORE IN COMMON THAN I THOUGHT.   
EB: hahaha!   
EB: i was punking you dude!   
EB: or at least i will be in our next conversation.   
EB: thanks for the great prank idea.   
CG: ARGH.   
CG: WHY WOULD YOU TRICK ME ABOUT THAT, WHAT IS EVEN THE POINT.   
EB: i don't know, it was just a friendly prank.   
EB: don't you ever play pranks?   
EB: i mean, of course you do, one of you just tried to prank me good. 

(You don't really distinguish between pranks and attempted murder.)

CG: WHAT, WHO.    
EB: pffffff, you'll find out.    
CG: WELL FINE.    
CG: I GUESS YOU GOT ME BACK, SORT OF.    
CG: FOR MY TROLLING, EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVEN'T EVEN READ MY WORST TROLLING EFFORTS YET.    
CG: BECAUSE THEY HAPPEN IN YOUR FUTURE.    
CG: AND EVEN THEN YOU DIDN'T EVEN MIND MUCH, ALMOST LIKE YOU WERE DELIGHTED TO HEAR IT.    
CG: KIND OF PERVERSE REALLY, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?    
EB: well, we're friends by then, aren't we?    
EB: or sort of like, uh, reverse anti-mutual friends.   
CG: WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT EVEN MEAN.    
EB: look, you're going to have to face it at some point...    
EB: that you're learning the meaning of this human emotion called friendship.    
CG: IS FRIENDSHIP REALLY AN EMOTION?    
EB: yes, absolutely.    
CG: I GUESS IT'S HARD TO SEE HOW WE BECOME FRIENDS.    
CG: THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING.    
CG: EVERY TIME I GO FURTHER BACK INTO YOUR PAST AND TALK TO YOU, YOU SAY STUFF THAT PERTAINS TO MY IMMEDIATE FUTURE.    
CG: AND THEN YOU WON'T EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT'S GOING ON, BECAUSE IT'S ALREADY OLD NEWS FOR YOU.    
EB: dude, you've been doing the same exact thing!!!    
CG: I'VE DONE NO SUCH THING.    
CG: I'VE BEEN EXCEPTIONALLY INFORMATIVE AND HELPFUL.    
CG: IF JUSTIFIABLY ACRIMONIOUS.    
EB: you never answer my questions, though.    
EB: how am i supposed to know what's going on, or what you're alluding to?    
CG: THIS GAME IS KIND OF A GAME OF A MILLION GUIDES.    
CG: EVERYWHERE YOU TURN THERE'S ANOTHER WAY TO FIGURE OUT WHAT'S GOING ON, SO PLEASE, GO SECRETE ME AN EARTH RIVER THROUGH YOUR STRANGE HUMAN TEAR DUCTS.    
CG: YOU'VE GOT SPRITES, EXILES, GUARDIANS, CONSORTS...    
CG: TIME HOPPING FUTURE SELVES, MYSTICAL DREAM ORACLE DOPPELGANGERS...    
CG: AND IF THAT WASN'T ENOUGH, YOUR PARTICULAR GROUP OF PLAYERS IS LUCKY ENOUGH TO HAVE US TO GIVE YOU THE SCOOP ON STUFF.    
CG: THROUGH A SORT OF SUBVERSION OF THE WHOLE DAMN THING.    
CG: EVEN THOUGH WE HATE YOU. 

You still don't know why they say they hate you. What could you possibly have done?

CG: AND EVEN THOUGH THE FACT THAT WE HATE YOU   
CG: IS AN IMMUTABLE FACT AS UNALTERABLE AS THIS WRITHING KNOTTED HELL OF A TIMELINE CHOKING US ALL TO DEATH   
CG: IT DOES NOT MEAN WE HAVE ANY REASON TO WITHHOLD ANY INFORMATION FROM YOU   
CG: OR DISH IT OUT THROUGH CRYPTOBAFFLING MIND FUDDLERY.   
CG: SO GO AHEAD, ASK ME ANYTHING.   
EB: ok...   
EB: what's the point of the game.   
CG: ASK SOMETHING ELSE.   
CG: ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT.   
CG: IT WAS THIS WHOLE BIG CONVERSATION WE HAD. 

But you haven't had it yet!

EB: augh!   
EB: fine.   
EB: where are you now?   
CG: IN THE MEDIUM.   
CG: A SEPARATE SESSION FROM YOURS.   
EB: no no, i know that!   
EB: you already told me.   
CG: I DID?   
EB: yes, in your future.   
CG: DAMMIT.   
EB: what i mean is...   
EB: are you in your house right now, or in one of your magical lands, or what?   
EB: just curious cause you can see me, but i can't see or know anything about you!   
CG: WE'RE HIDING IN THE VEIL.   
CG: WHAT'S LEFT OF IT.   
EB: what's that?   
CG: IT'S A HUGE BELT OF METEORS   
CG: ORBITING WAY OUTSIDE SKAIA, BEYOND THE ORBIT OF THE PLANETS   
CG: DIVIDING THE MEDIUM FROM THE FURTHEST RING   
CG: WHERE DERSE ORBITS.   
EB: derse?   
CG: THE DARK PLANET.   
CG: PROSPIT'S THE LIGHT ONE NEAR SKAIA.   
EB: well jeez, how am i supposed to know any of this??   
CG: YOU'D PROBABLY FIND OUT SOONER OR LATER FROM YOUR DUMB GRANDMA.   
CG: BUT BY FUSING WITH THE SPRITE SHE HAS TO WITHHOLD STUFF AND BE MYSTERIOUS AND ALL.   
CG: TO MAKE YOUR ADVENTURE SEEM MORE "MAAAAAAGICAL!!!!"   
CG: IT'S INFURIATING.   
EB: ok, so the veil is a bunch of meteors...   
EB: what do you mean "what's left of it"?   
CG: OK, THERE COMES A TIME WHEN BLACK INEVITABLY BEATS WHITE   
CG: ON THE BATTLEFIELD IN THE CENTER OF SKAIA   
CG: THE WHITE KING IS CAPTURED OR KILLED OR SOMETHING   
CG: THAT'S WHEN THE RECKONING STARTS. 

You still don't like the sound of that.

EB: ok...   
CG: THE RULERS OF DERSE   
CG: THE BLACK KING AND QUEEN   
CG: GET THE POWER TO SEND THE VEIL TOWARD SKAIA   
CG: TO DESTROY IT   
CG: THAT KIND OF STARTS YOUR BIG "COUNTDOWN"   
CG: WHEN SHIT GETS SERIOUS.   
EB: so then it's up to us to save it?   
CG: YEAH, YOU HAVE THAT LONG TO KILL THE BLACK QUEEN AND KING   
CG: AND SKAIA ITSELF SORT OF BUYS YOU SOME TIME   
CG: BY ACTIVATING ITS DEFENSE PORTALS   
CG: TO CATCH SOME OF THE METEORS   
CG: THE THREAT GETS BIGGER THE LONGER YOU TAKE THOUGH   
CG: SMALLER METEORS COME FIRST AND THEY GET PROGRESSIVELY BIGGER AND BIGGER   
CG: AND THERE'S ONLY SO MUCH OF THEM SKAIA CAN ABSORB FOR YOU.   
EB: ok, but it sounds like we've got plenty of time before that happens, right?   
CG: THAT'S JUST IT.   
CG: YOU DON'T. 

What?

CG: ORDINARILY YOU WOULD BUT   
CG: YOUR RECKONING STARTS MUCH SOONER   
CG: BECAUSE OF SOME DUMB THINGS YOU'VE DONE   
CG: YOU COMPLETELY BLEW IT ALREADY AND YOU HAVE NO CHANCE OF WINNING ANYMORE   
CG: WHICH ORDINARILY WOULD BE FINE 

That doesn't sound fine to you!

CG: JUST ANOTHER BUNCH OF LOSERS TO FAIL AT THIS GAME   
CG: IT'S WHAT YOU DO LATER THAT CAUSES SO MUCH MORE TROUBLE THAN THAT   
CG: AND NOW WE HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT TOO.   
EB: oh no...   
EB: what is it?   
CG: ALREADY TOLD YOU.   
CG: IT'S INEVITABLE AND COMPLETELY POINTLESS TO TALK ABOUT ANYWAY.   
EB: yeah, well...   
EB: maybe you're wrong!   
EB: maybe there's something we can still do to stop it, if you just help us?   
CG: I'M NOT WRONG, IT'S ALL RIGHT HERE IN FRONT OF ME, YOU FUCK UP ROYALLY, END OF STORY.   
EB: ok, we'll see about that, mr. sourbulge.   
EB: hey, aren't you kind of uncomfortable sitting on a meteor?   
EB: are you all huddled in a crater or something?   
CG: NO, THERE'S ALL KINDS OF CRAZY SHIT IN THE VEIL.   
CG: A LOT OF THESE METEORS ARE KIND OF LIKE...   
CG: BIG SEEDS.   
EB: seeds?   
EB: um...   
EB: well, what kind of crazy shit is there?   
CG: STUFF LIKE...   
CG: BUILDINGS   
CG: FACILITIES   
CG: LIKE LABS AND STUFF.   
EB: weird.   
CG: YEAH, THE VEIL IS KIND OF LIKE NEUTRAL GROUND FOR THE KINGDOMS, LIKE OUR PLANETS.   
CG: SOME PLACES ARE USED TO GENETICALLY ENGINEER SOLDIERS AND AGENTS FOR THE TWO SIDES.   
CG: USING GENETIC MATERIAL FROM THE EXOTIC MENAGERIE OF CHESS PIECES ON THE BATTLEFIELD.   
CG: TO HELP FUEL THE WAR AND KEEP RAISING THE STAKES.   
EB: wow, i don't think i'm following this.   
CG: YEAH NO SHIT!   
CG: BUT YOU'LL FIND OUT WHEN YOU GET THERE   
CG: SINCE YOU WERE IN THE VEIL WHEN WE LAST TALKED.   
CG: ANYWAY THAT'S MORE THAN ENOUGH INFO FOR YOU TO THINK ABOUT AND BE LESS STUPID IN TIME FOR CONVERSATIONS WE'VE ALREADY HAD.   
CG: I'M OUT OF HERE.   
EB: ok, but wait...   
EB: can you give a message to GC for me?   
EB: tell her nice try.   
CG: WHAT   
CG: WHY WOULD I GIVE HER A MESSAGE FOR YOU   
CG: DO IT YOURSELF, I'M NOT A RELAY SERVICE.   
EB: oh, well i thought you'd be cool with it since you asked me to give her a message for you last time.   
EB: but whatever.   
CG: I FIND THAT HIGHLY IMPLAUSIBLE.   
CG: I'M NOT FALLING FOR ANY MORE OF YOUR HUMAN PRANKS.   
CG: "NICE TRY" JOHN   
CG: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. 

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling ectoBiologist [EB] –-


	115. Act IV: Ascend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jack Noir
>   * _Where:_ Dersite Palace (your office)
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Regicide

###  Chapter 115: Act IV: Ascend

You wait.

It's tedious and irritating, but the time has to be right. You've got piles of papers on your desk to work through, so you take your quill in hand. You might rest your chin in your hand from time to time. At least one parking citation gets doodled on. Your rendition of your monarch as a “huge bitch bluh bluh” is particularly apt. You crumple it up when you're done and destroy the evidence.

Finally, she pays you a visit. She come strolling towards your office with no idea of what's waiting for her. You watch on the fenestrated wall, and make note of the recent addition of wings and a sword through her torso.

Doesn't matter.

She announces her entrance to your domain by slashing the wall in half from side-to-side. Then she picks up the damned dress hanging on the coatrack and shoves it at you. You're supposed to be wearing it.

You refuse. You go so far as to stick out your tongue to show your disgust. She points at the pink hat, and drops it at your feet. Then one tentacle gets the dress right up in your face.

There are so many outfits you could be wearing, and all of them are atrociously colorful and ridiculous. Tiny red shorts or tight green pants or pink frilly skirts; clown collars and hats. She makes you try them all on, in every combination. None of them are acceptable.

The black queen seats herself on your desk and just watches you.

Finally, you decide you've had enough. You tear at your clothes, ripping them off your body.

She wraps a tentacle around your neck in response to your defiance. As she hold you still, she brings a blade near your face with her ringed hand.

It doesn't matter what she's going to do, whether she's going to cut off your head or merely threaten you. This is as far as it goes.

The green box is in reach. You pick it up. You reach in and pull out the contents. Her eye widens, aware of the danger too late. 

Her finger is sliced off her hand. The ring falls.

She is rendered weak. A moment later, there is nothing left of her but smoking rags and spatters of blood. The explosion took out most of another four-screened wall, but you don't care. You reach down and pick up the still-warm ring. Deliberately, you bring it to your own right hand.

You slide the ring onto your finger.

You change.

It isn't comfortable, sprouting tentacles and wings and losing an arm below the shoulder. The sword piercing you through hurts even more.

For the power you have just gained, it was a small price to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flash for this chapter can be viewed [here](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=003568).


	116. Activate the Fourth Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here begins the author insertion. Don't fret, there is a purpose! But I'll let him tell you about it...

### Chapter 116: Activate the Fourth Wall

You sit at your computer desk in a blue-washed room covered with framed pictures. You turn, and notice that the fourth wall is on.

What? 

Oh hell no. This is always such a terrible idea.

You get up and examine the wall. You press so closely that anyone watching would see you as broken into four pieces. The icon on your green shirt, black wings superimposed on a white sword, is on display.

You really wish your side of the wall had an off switch.

Forget it. You go back to work. It's gonna be pretty boring to watch, anyway. You're just going to recap the last year of _Homestuck_. This is going to be pretty long.

You just know the readers want you to do something more interesting. You tell them to shut up.

A red arm with a white mitten waves next to you. You turn. 

Huh? Oh. Cal, please. Not now.

You could keep drawing _Homestuck_ or something. But you don't merely _draw_ Homestuck.

(You take a pose, hands held out before you as if you were juggling.)

You _conjure_ this intrepid fantasyscape with tears bled from the wisdom-weary eyes of fifty thousand imaginary magicians. You pull heavy drags from the brumes of inspiration with enchanted bellows marauded from a guild of churlish mythical dwarves. Vast bulbous riddlespiders push the silken strands of pure whimsy through hideous abdominal spinnerets and it is that with which you weave this audacious cocoon of exquisite lies. And when it hatches a great moth of titillation will awaken and roar and beat its wings, and the powder settling down will arrest the humors of an enormous terrible old beggar, relaxing the vulturous leathery vicegrip he's fixed around your captive mind.

Ok, enough being stupid. You stop being a wiseass and get drawing. It won't be that exciting to watch though. 

You pull up Photoshop again. Here's the file you were using for the fourth wall. It's just a gray box with four black rectangles inside it.

You elicit suggestions from the readers for what to draw next, and agree to show what's going on with John. You drag the content from one of the John files under the fourth wall layer, so you can make a more graceful transition out of this ludicrous, highly disruptive self-insertion arc.

You prepare the GIF file to switch the wall's view once the readers type the command.

You decide that's entirely enough of that. If this narration becomes any more self-aware in a playfully self-deprecating yet weirdly self-aggrandizing manner, you're going to go drown a bag of puppies in a sewer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The recap as written by Hussie can be found [here](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=003574)


	117. Break and Enter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ LOWAS (still rocketing through the air).
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Continuing to trust those proven untrustworthy, invasion of privacy, boys being boys, Christians beware, Davesprite feels

###  Chapter 117: Act IV: Break and Enter

It hasn't been long since your conversation with CG ended when GC pesters you. You hesitate briefly about answering, but it looks like she sent you something. Okay, you're curious.

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] sent ectoBiologist [EB] the file "LOW4SM4P.FL4" --   
EB: what's this?   
GC: 1T'S YOUR WORLD M4P   
GC: W1TH YOUR S3COND G4T3 L4B3L3D   
GC: SO YOU C4N GO TH3R3   
EB: oh man, let me drop everything and go there, because i'm in such a huge hurry to take more of your advice!   
GC: JOHN PL34S3   
GC: G1V3 M3 ON3 OF YOUR HUM4N BR34KS   
GC: 1 F33L 4WFUL 4BOUT K1LL1NG YOU   
GC: 3V3N THOUGH T3CH1N1C4LLY YOU N3V3R 3V3N D13D SO 1 DONT KNOW WH4T YOUR3 B1TCH1NG 4BOUT >:[   
EB: yeah, well, dave said i did, and i believe him!   
GC: TH4T 1S B3C4US3 H3 4ND YOU 4R3 B3ST PUP4 P4LS FOUR LYF3   
GC: C4NT 1 B3 YOUR P4L TOO JOHN???   
EB: i don't know, i thought you were ok for a while, but now you are kind of giving me the creeps!   
GC: J3GUS JOHN   
EB: what?   
GC: 1 4M 1NVOK1NG TH3 N4M3 OF YOUR 34RTH J3GUS   
GC: TO 3XPR3SS FRUSTR4T1ON   
EB: you mean my earth jesus?   
GC: 1 DONT KNOW   
GC: DO 1   
EB: do you have a troll jegus?   
GC: JOHN   
GC: W3 H4V3 TH3 B3ST TROLL J3GUS   
GC: YOU DONT 3V3N KNOW   
EB: wow, really?   
EB: or is this a joke?   
GC: 1TS 4 JOK3   
GC: 1M NOT R34LLY SUR3 WH4T 4 J3GUS 1S >:?   
EB: well...   
EB: neither do i, i guess.   
EB: it's pretty much not anything.   
GC: JOHN   
GC: W1LL YOU PL34S3 FOLLOW TH3 M4P?????   
GC: L3T M3 34RN YOUR TRUST   
GC: 1F YOU DONT L1K3 WH4TS ON TH3 OTH3R S1D3 OF TH3 G4T3   
GC: YOU C4N JUST TURN 4ROUND!   
EB: um...   
EB: ok.   
EB: i'll take a look.

You open a map that looks like it was copied off Google LOWAS. You're not really sure what you're looking at, and everything is really blue, which makes sense since the land below you is blue. But it looks like terrain, with ridges and canyons and stuff. To the left is the zooming scale and the arrow keys familiar from Google maps. 

Nearish to the bottom of the map is a white box marked with a red “A.” When you click on it, a textbox pops up. 

JOHN H3R3 1S YOUR HOUS3. 1 CROPP3D TH1S WORLD M4P FOR YOU SO YOU C4N F1ND WH3R3 TO GO 34S1LY. FLY NORTH!!! >:]

<\- 4LSO H1 TH1S 1S M3

To the left is a picture of a... troll, you guess. She's got gray skin and black hair and pointy orange and yellow horns on her head. She's wearing red sunglasses and a really wide grin with sharp teeth.

You navigate north almost to the top and then check east and west until you find the green “B” marker. It sits on a small blue morphing spirograph.

TH1S 1S TH3 S3COND G4T3! GO 1N H3R3. 1 PROMI1S3 YOU WONT D13 TH1S T1M3. UNL3SS YOU SCR3W UP 4LL BY YOURS3LF. >;]

Well, ok. You get your bearings, and head north. Pretty soon you see a blue gate floating above a really tall spire. It has to be at least a mile high! It's a good thing you've got your rocketpack, because there's no way you could have climbed that high on your own!

You enter the gate and drop through the other side. On this side it's... pink? That's weird.

Everything is really bright, and instead of blue rocks and black rivers you're spiraling down toward a white beach and pastel water and a modern mansion.

_FYOOOOO._

You don't really have the best aim, and you end up crashing through a window and wall on the third floor, or something. You end up upside down against the wall, stuck like a turtle on it's back, in a room covered with purple letters.

You manage to detach yourself from the rocket and get to your feet so you can look around. Oh man, it's Rose's room! You crashed right through the totem lathe. Probably better you took out that than her bookshelf or her computer, at least.

Despite the pandemonium of your entrance, Rose is still sound asleep curled up on a pile of scarves and stuff. She must be really tuckered out! 

It looks like this little four-eyed kitten is awake and ready for action though. He is adorable. You decide to name him Dr. Meowgon Spengler.

You notice that someone is pestering you.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] -- 

TG: wow ok   
TG: youre a little early   
TG: but thats fine i guess   
TG: also you suck at rockets   
EB: ARGH!   
TG: what   
EB: she tricked me again.   
TG: who   
EB: GC.   
EB: she told me how to get to the 2nd gate.   
EB: so i went through, but it took me to rose's house instead.   
EB: another prank!   
TG: dude you did go through the second gate   
TG: i mean i dont know why you would listen to her again   
TG: kind of moronic but thats a whole other issue   
TG: she didnt trick you this time   
EB: oh...   
EB: then, i don't really get this.   
TG: what were you expecting   
TG: this is how it works   
TG: the progression of gates is like this whole round robin thing   
TG: cycling through each planet   
TG: gate 2 on your planet leads to gate 2 on roses   
TG: then you build up to gate 3 above her house which leads somewhere else on her planet   
TG: you look for gate 4 somewhere there   
TG: which leads to gate 4 above my house   
TG: and so on   
EB: wow, ok.   
TG: ordinarily rose would have already gone through her gate 1   
TG: but shes sleeping pretty hard obviously   
TG: and ordinarily you wouldnt have gone through gate 2 until her house was built up   
TG: so you wouldnt fall to your death   
TG: but you got your cheat rocket so thats fine   
TG: see we all got to coordinate on this thing   
EB: ok...   
EB: how do you know all this?   
TG: fuck   
TG: come on dude   
EB: oh yeah...   
EB: you're the orange dave.   
EB: hey no offense, but do you think i could talk to the real dave for a second?   
TG: god dammit   
TG: i am the real dave   
TG: you know the one who saved your life   
TG: im more real actually cause ive been through some heavy shit already hopping around on red hot gears and i-beams for like a year   
TG: and grinding shit out for your ungrateful ass   
TG: here look check out this code from the future not that you deserve it WIin189Q   
TG: youre fucking welcome   
EB: wow, calm down!   
EB: i'm sorry, that's not really what i meant...   
EB: i mean, of course you're a real dave, but what i mean is...   
EB: the dave from my time is also my friend, and i guess he's in the same boat i'm in, not knowing stuff and all.   
EB: and i'd feel bad keeping him out of the loop! 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] -- 

TG: yo   
EB: oh, hey.   
EB: i think i pissed off your future self.   
TG: what did you do   
EB: i said he wasn't the real dave.   
TG: ahahahahaha   
EB: i think i might have really hurt his feelings though!   
TG: pff   
TG: dont worry about it   
EB: why not?   
TG: cause i wouldnt give a shit   
TG: and hes me   
EB: ok.   
EB: i'm in rose's room by the way.   
TG: what   
TG: really   
EB: yeah, but she's asleep!   
TG: ok   
TG: dont go anywhere   
TG: im coming down to the computer   
EB: ok. 

TG: dave is here he wants to use the computer   
TG: probably to help you scope out roses room and snoop and stuff   
TG: i mean thats what i would have done   
TG: if you were alive   
TG: so im gonna go   
TG: use these flappy ghost wings and tear shit up in space or something   
EB: sure!   
EB: hey dave...   
TG: what   
EB: in case i forgot to say so before...   
EB: thanks for saving my life!   
TG: yeah 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

You have less than a minute to wait before Dave is back at the keyboard.

TG: ok i dont know what youre doing here   
TG: but i think we can both agree that youve got to rummage through as much of her shit as possible before she wakes up   
EB: man, i don't know how i feel about that!   
EB: i don't really like the idea of capering around her room while she's asleep, it feels weird.   
EB: i'm going to wake her up. 

You give her shoulder a shake, but she doesn't respond.

TG: dude no come on   
TG: shes out like a light anyway   
TG: it was some like weird future thing that happened that made her sleep   
EB: a future thing?   
TG: yeah   
TG: shit doesnt get more clear than that   
EB: well, yeah, she won't wake up.   
EB: so i guess so.   
EB: but i'm not snooping!!!   
TG: fine dont   
TG: but here just do this one thing   
TG: see those two notebooks on the floor behind you 

You turn around and spot two notebooks just laying in the middle of the floor.

EB: yeah.   
EB: they look sorta like journals.   
EB: i don't think i should read those!   
TG: you dont have to read them im not telling you to   
TG: what kind of prying tool do you take me for   
TG: just pick them up   
TG: you know like tidy up a bit since you made a royal fucking dump of her room just now   
EB: uh, ok.

That doesn't sound too bad. You wander over and captchalogue the journals. 

TG: now i need you to do something else   
TG: this is important   
TG: like for important game reasons and stuff   
TG: take the card the books are on   
TG: flip it over   
EB: umm...   
TG: so you can see the code   
EB: wait a minute!   
EB: i see what you're trying to do.   
EB: i won't tell you the code for rose's books!   
TG: dude you dont have to tell me the code   
TG: just flip it over and let me know if theres a code there thats all   
EB: ok...   
EB: i guess. 

You flip the card over.

EB: yeah there's a code.   
TG: alright cool   
TG: you can ditch the books now if you want   
TG: maybe put them back on the floor   
TG: so rose doesnt think you were snooping   
TG: seriously youve got some grubby fingers bro why dont you mind your own business there   
TG: what is even with you 

Ooh, this guy, thinks he's so funny!

EB: HAHA DAVE,   
EB: I THINK ALL THIS LAUGHING MADE ME POOP IN MY PANTS TOO HARD.   
TG: isnt that your birthday package there 

You look up. Against the wall next to your rocket pack is a purple box. You can see what looks like a trailing end of yarn sticking out, tempting Dr Meowgan to play with it.

EB: oh, yeah, i think it might be.    
TG: maybe you should look at it    
TG: i dont think it counts as snooping since its technically yours    
EB: yeah, maybe.    
EB: i wonder if she finished...    
EB: she was so tight lipped about the damn thing! i am really curious.

You eye your birthday package again curiously. It's awfully tempting to peek inside, but you feel guilty about it for some reason, even though it's yours anyway. 

You suppose a perusal of her bookshelf would be harmless enough. Just a bunch of books. The knowledge within is meant for everybody. 

Dave pesters you with the message, "TG: afdsjjjjjjjjvfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff" which you decide not to bother dignifying with a whole pesterlog ordeal because it's probably just him being a truculent jackass again so screw him. Back to the books.

You find a book full of beautiful poetry and groundbreaking philosophical thinking by American Sports Legend, Charles Barkley.

These are words to cherish. This is a man to treasure.

You captchalogue Rose's autographed copy of _This Ocean Charles_. Jewels of wisdom like this don't just fall into your lap every day, and shouldn't be parted with lightly. You doubt she'll mind if you borrow her book. She's always trying to get you to read her weird books anyway.

You can't take it anymore. You're going to see what's inside the box.

It's... a bunny. It's a bit of a patchwork bunny. Half of it looks like an oil-stained brown plush toy. The other half is made of stripes of knitted yarn in shades of black and purple. A purple button has been sewed on to replace a missing eye on the brown side of its face.

There is an accompanying note written on Squiddle stationary with a purple border. Rose has written in purple cursive.

_John,_

_I never got to thank you properly for your gift. Yes, the words were there. Language comprising the familiar veneer of gratitude rubbing off with each tired favor traded for. A God bless to a sneeze or a few pennies cradled in a receipt. Perhaps it's the deplorable romantic in me, but I thought your present, and your friendship, demanded reciprocation surpassing by some degree the utterly meaningless._

_The proper thanks I thought would be a demonstration that your offering was not in vain. Yes, maybe some would take your suggested alternative to my gloomy preoccupations as a passive-aggressive jab. But I know you didn't mean it that way. In fact, I'm sure reading about it now is the first time the notion has occurred to you. John, please stop rolling your eyes. The letter is down here._

_The gift in this box is a resurrection. I used your present to thread life anew into a tattered heirloom. As long as I can remember, its black, greasy appendages have been tethered limply to its ratty, porous carriage. Too delicate to wash, too dear to discard. I used to love this rabbit. Now he's yours._

_I trust you'll find this to be adequately sentimental. Happy birthday._

_Rose_

This gift from Rose is so cool. Two sweet bunnies on one birthday?? What are the odds. In a fit of enthusiasm you shut up and jam the bunny back in the box, executing a textbook CHAOS DUNK. You have to jump into the air while holding the box to accomplish this.

Millions would have perished, if everything in the ocean weren't dead already, that is.

Er, you mean you gently chaos dunk the fragile bunny back in the box and captchalogue it. It is such a nice present. You will have to write Rose a thank you note and tuck it under her hair band or something. Wait no, that would probably be creepy. 

This bunny reminds you that you still have a salamander in your sylladex. She is holding the bunny Dave got you. It's sort of uncanny how similar they are, aside from the knitted enhancements. Seriously, what are the odds?? So weird.

You release dear, precious Casey. She was probably getting antsy in that card. You think you'll leave her here with Rose. A dangerous quest is nothing to embark on with a sweet, innocent little girl stashed in your inventory. 

You aren't actually sure if she is a girl though. You don't even know if salamanders can be girls. Aren't they hermaphrodites or something? You don't know anything about biology. Unless it is biology that has to do with ghosts and slime. But even then you don't actually know anything, you just sort of like to pretend you do. 

Looks like a troll is bugging Rose. You'll just take care of that for her.

\-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] \-- 

GA: Im Supposed To Antagonize A Few Members Of Your Trivial Species    
GA: I Have To Start Somewhere    
GA: And Somewhen    
GA: So I Am Starting With You   
GA: And Now    
GA: Its Going To Be Pointless And Unpleasant    
GA: Mostly For Me    
GA: Actually You Know What    
GA: Im Not Really Feeling This At All    
GA: Goodbye    
TT: she's not here right now, she's asleep!    
TT: but ok, see you.    
GA: Is This    
GA: Your Human Sarcasm That Ive Heard About    
GA: That You Always Use    
GA: And That Is Basically A Terrible Way To Communicate    
TT: umm... no?    
GA: I Thought That Was The Thing You Did    
GA: The Rose Human Specifically    
TT: oh, yeah. 

Heehee. This is a perfect opportunity to troll the trolls!

TT: that's me! i am the rose human. look at me, i am so smart with all these snooty words and complicated things to say.   
TT: i am the queen of books.   
GA: Okay These Are Definitely Insincere Statements   
GA: Why Do You Work So Hard At Being So Awful   
TT: fffuuhhhhhhhh   
TT: i'm so burned, these burns are crazy.   
TT: can we just cut to the chase and be friends already??   
TT: these cat and mouse games are so dumb, you know we're just going to all be friends at some point anyway.   
GA: Have We Spoken Before   
TT: i don't know, uh, maybe???   
TT: it's hard to keep track with all your time nonsense.   
GA: Now That I Think About It It Is Pretty Conceivable That I Will Talk To You Again In The Past After This Conversation   
TT: that's because you guys always do things the hard way.   
TT: and the dumb way.   
GA: I Should Figure Out How The Viewport Feature Of This Application Works   
GA: So I Can See What Such A Primitive Creature Looks Like   
TT: haha, well i know what you guys look like. 

You are a little bit glad GC included that picture of herself, now.

TT: you look kind of like...   
TT: howie mandel from little monsters.   
TT: even though, to be perfectly frank, he was kind of a big monster.   
TT: because he was a big goofy adult.   
TT: and fred savage was like his child prankster sidekick.   
GA: Is This An Adversary You Have Encountered On Your Quest   
TT: no, it's a movie.   
TT: you should ask john about it, because he thinks it's awesome, which it is.   
GA: It Seems You Put Stock In Johns Assessment Of Things   
GA: Even Really Uninteresting Things That Are Pretty Terrible To Listen To   
GA: He Is Either The Leader Of Your Party Or You Hold Whatever The Human Equivalent Of Mating Fondness For Him Is   
TT: yeah, i got him this really cool bunny for his birthday, and it's really nicely knitted and everything.   
TT: because i am basically in love with him, you are right.   
GA: Uh Okay   
TT: heh, just kidding. i'm sure john knows it's cause i am really thoughtful and i bet he really appreciates the present, and would say thank you if he were here!   
GA: Okay Human Courtship Is Definitely A Strange Thing And Its Sort Of Blowing My Mind Listening To This   
GA: I Think Ill Talk To Someone Else Now   
TT: why don't you talk to john?   
GA: Maybe   
GA: When Along His Timeline Would You Recommend Communicating With Him   
TT: oh man, i don't know.   
TT: why don't you pick the time that will make the most complicated mess out of everything imaginable?   
TT: you know that's what you're gonna do anyway.   
GA: Considering That Youre Obviously Not That Smart   
GA: And Basically Understand Whipping Bugwinged Fuckall About Even The Most Elementary Temporal Mechanics   
GA: I Am A Bit Perplexed As To Why I Find Myself So Vehemently Fondling The Short End Of The Antagonism Stick Here   
GA: Kind Of Irritating   
GA: Im Going To Talk To Your Comrades   
GA: This John Human   
GA: And Figure Out Whats Going On   
TT: ok.   
TT: if you talk to him in the past...   
TT: he'll understand even less buggywhipped fuckall about time, and he'll be confused.   
TT: so maybe paste something from this conversation to him? i don't know.   
TT: and if you talk to him in the future...   
TT: he'll probably know all this stuff, like things you've said to him but haven't said yet!   
TT: and then you'll be confused.   
TT: sorry, that's just how this works.   
TT: don't say i didn't warn you!   
GA: Consider Me Fully Briefed On The Matter.   
GA: Until Next Time Rose   
GA: Next Time In The Past   
TT: yeah, bye!   
TT: (heheheheheheh) 

\-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] ceased trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] \--

Oh man, so awesome. Now, what should you do next?

You decide you've snooped through Rose's stuff enough. You head up to Rose's Alchemiter on the roof to try out the code Davesprite gave you. Huh, looks like the Alchemiter has been modified pretty heavily. You manage to figure out how to use the handy slots on the side of the Alchemiter without too much dinking around.

Oh, cool, you can preview the items. The thing is huge, and costs a fortune. Half a million pieces of build grist, garnets, diamonds, and gold each, and a single piece of quartz. 

There's no way you can make that, let alone wield it, even with your ghost gloves.

You use the Alchemiter's scaling upgrade to reduce it to a more manageable and affordable size. You make a weapon called Fear No Anvil. The handle of the hammer has a black and red grip. At the end of the handle is a red hot gear with clock hands sticking out of it. The head of the hammer is cubish, and a shiny red.

It is not immediately obvious how this hammer is special. Maybe you'd better ask Davesprite.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] -- 

EB: so what is this?   
EB: the thing the code made...   
TG: really powerful hammer   
EB: how do you know?   
EB: i thought you couldn't use hammers.   
TG: i cant   
TG: better be though   
TG: got it from hephaestus   
EB: who's that?   
TG: really tough to kill dude   
EB: you killed him for it?   
TG: nope   
EB: how'd you get it then?   
TG: shenanigans   
EB: ok.

Rose obviously isn't waking up any time soon. Might as well take some time to explore, and maybe stop by again later. You equip your trusty rocket and notice the kitten sitting at your feet.

Why, Doctor Meowgon... do you want to come along for the ride? It sure looks that way. Ok, hop aboard then. Adventure awaits.

You set the kitten on your head, and blast off. Going straight up is a lot easier than landing without crashing!

Woohoooo!


	118. Act IV: Hassle the Hacker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ grimAuxiliatrix
>   * _Where:_ In the Veil of a different Session
>   * _When:_ Time Is A Terribly Limiting Concept
> 


###  Chapter 118: Act IV: Hassle the Hacker

After your first unsatisfying conversation with the Rose Human, you seek to satisfy your curiosity. You had better ask your computer savvy friend to help you.

grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]

GA: If Youre Not Too Busy Still Setting Up The Network    
GA: Perhaps You Could Come Show Me How To Activate The Viewport    
TA: ii am iin fact two bu2y 2tiill 2ettiing iit up.    
TA: whoa HERE2 an iidea.    
TA: pre22 F1.    
GA: My Keyboard Is Missing The F1 Key    
TA: liie2.    
TA: dont bother me iim not iin the mood.    
TA: iif ii 2ee one more 2narl of wiire2.    
TA: kiind of juttiing out and beiing tangled or whatever.    
TA: ii am goiing two perform 2ome 2ort of athletiic fuckiing 2omer2ault off the deep end and get a call from the pre2iident or 2ome 2hiit.    
TA: 2o go away.    
GA: You Used To Like To Talk More    
GA: If I Recall I Was Typically The One Who Would Solicit Reprieves From Your Nonsense    
GA: So I Dont Know What Happened    
TA: that wa2 before ii knew we were all goiing two diie.    
TA: and no one beliieved me.    
TA: and now look at you all.    
TA: all beliieviing me 2uddenly HMM UNCANNY.    
GA: Then Why Are You Doing This    
GA: Setting Up These Stations For Us    
TA: two get you all off my bulge about iit.    
TA: but ii wont troll any of them per2onally no way.    
TA: kiind of juveniile.    
TA: but you guys go knock your 2elve2 out ok.    
TA: 2ee the menu up top?    
TA: fiiddle around wiith that tiil you open the viiewport.    
GA: I Did Fiddle With It    
GA: To No Avail    
TA: iif you cant fiigure 2hiit out by fuckiing around you dont belong near computer2.    
TA: kiind of liike wiith regii2tered 2ex offender2 and 2chool2.    
TA: iif you move two a new town you have two go up two your neiighbor2 door and warn them about how 2tupiid you are.    
TA: and giive them a chance two hiide all theiir iinnocent technology.    
TA: and vandaliize your hou2e.

He gives you a look of disdain through his two-toned red and blue shades.

You take a loose F1 key and chuck it at his head. Then you go over and hassle him until he agrees to help you. You barely refrain from hanging over his shoulder while he fixes your computer, because you are classy and well-mannered. It is possible that you are also a bit impatient.

He tells you there's nothing to fix. Just got to open the viewport. It's easy.

On your screen in Trollian, you can see four timelines and five names in your chumproll. Two of the names are blue, and designate the same human. You are more concerned with the purple line, and there is a purple circle at the point in time where you just finished your first conversation with her.

Your friend does something inexplicable, then hovers the cursor over the circle. A new window opens, displaying a hornless, pale-skinned girl and a yellow salamander standing near a computer.

Oh My


	119. Act IV: Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your bedroom on Derse's moon
>   * _When:_ A few minutes ago
> 


###  Chapter 119: Act IV: Dream

As your future dreaming self ceases to exist, you open your eyes in Derse for the first time. Standing out clearly from the purple walls are letters written in neon green.

MEEOEMEOMEMOEEMMEMEOMMEOOOMEWEEWWOMMEMOOOOMOEMEMWOMEMOOWEMOEEMWWWEMEMEMWEEWOEMEOWMOMEMWEOWMEOOMEWMEOOOMEOWMEOMMEOMEOWMEMEOWMEOMEMEWOWWOMEOOOMEOMEOWOOEMEWOWWWEOW...

You recall Jasper's secret, told to you in confidence so many years ago. As you ponder over the repeating letters, your mind clicks. If instead of MEOW, the letters were ACGT... Of course! It's a DNA code!

Once you've come to terms with the writing on the walls, you glance around your dream room. There is nothing else to draw your attention. It remains the same as it did in the future that no longer exists.

There's something that should be different, though. You float out through your window and head for the other purple tower. You land outside the arched window and take a ball of yarn in your hand.

You peer through. The room inside is awash in red, cluttered with abstractions from the game and DJ equipment. A blond boy in aviator shades and purple pyjamas is sitting at a computer. A ventriloquist's dummy, wearing a purple baseball cap on backwards and a purple nightshirt, is constantly shifting between the tank of the toilet, some equipment, and the Alchemiter. Dave fails to notice either the puppet or yourself.

You toss.

_Yarn bonk_.

Your aim is perfect. You strike the top of his head. He jerks, then glances over his shoulder. You lean your elbows on the windowsill and give him a wave. Then you float into the room while he gets up and comes toward you.

You can't help noticing that Dave has not decorated his walls as thoroughly as you or John. He has merely rendered Sweet Bro on one wall, and Hella Jeff on another. You suppose you could analyze the rationale behind your peculiar psychosis, but your attention is elsewhere for once.

He looks so much happier than the Dave you are used to. The memories of your future self are becoming less immediate as they integrate with your current self, but you've never seen Dave in real life before. This is prior to four months of playing a game you had already lost, before your best friends died horrible deaths. You suspect your own psyche is healing, and Dave's was never damaged to begin with.

Rather than talk about it, though, you let Dave show you some of his sweet gear. Wow he is so cool. The two of you, along with Lil Cal and some crows, dance to the beats he has on his mixer.

Eventually you get irritated of Lil Cal, and you punt him out the window.

After taking care of the pest, you turn back to Dave. He directs your attention to his computer. The Sburb server is open, covering up everything but the Pesterchum and Hephaestus browser applications. The screen shows a view of your roof. It seems you have a visitor.

You exchange glances with Dave. Then you command yourself to awaken.

You sit up from your nap, feeling energized despite the unusual sleeping position, and examine your open laptop. Someone has been using your Pesterchum account. And you somehow doubt the culprit was this young upright amphibian presently throwing a fit.

You hurry to the door so you can catch John before he goes gallivanting off somewhere. But it seems your door is ajar. Funny, you don't remember leaving your door ajar. Even though it's sort of absurd for you to take note of such a thing, considering John recently left your room. 

Oh well, it doesn't matter. You will now proceed through this door uneventfully.

You get dumped on by a bucket full of Hellacious Blue Phlegm Aneurysm Gushers as a thoughtful but mischievous thank you gesture from John. Your prankster's gambit plunges to an all time low. You cannot hope to defeat Egbert in a prank-off. He is simply the best there is.

You glance out your somewhat larger window just in time to see a red rocket flying away from your house, leaving a trail of smoke behind. Your eyes narrow. 

Where is he off to now? 

At least you have this little fellow here to keep you company. You will name him Viceroy Bubbles Von Salamancer.

You will need an assistant. You have much to accomplish.


	120. Act IV: Be the Pony, Follow Mom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These next few chapters were surreal to write. They are also quite short. I thought about posting them differently, but, well…they are what they are.

### Chapter 120: Act IV: Be the Pony; Follow Mom

You are now the pony. 

You stand outside some ruins which your beloved master's mother entered recently. Outside you find a striking scarcity of oats or greenery or anything at all that is delicious to chew on. This is as compelling a reason as any to follow her inside.

You go in the ruins. Your clopping hooves echo throughout the cavernous and foreboding environment. But you are too stupid to be nervous, or to notice the purple turtle glyphs on the walls. 

Your powerful snout detects the scent of Rose's mom. She went this way.

You follow the scent to a large room. Good grief, look at all this grist. Some pieces are ten times your size. A large and terrible monster must surely have been slain here.

You pick up all the grist, and store it in Rose's Grist Cache. This is entirely too much grist of too many exotic types for such a low level player. But you'll take it. You don't look a gift horse in the pink heart tattoo. 

The grist overflow is gathered by the Grist Gutter utility supplied by Grist Torrent. Any type of grist that tops out over 8000 is stored and gradually redirected to other players.

You proceed through the room. Rose's mom stands on a small platform and disappears. 

You are a little nervous about transportalizing yourself. As a quadruped, grisly bisection strikes you as a very real possibility. Even though you're too dumb to think of such things.

You somehow get yourself on the platform and rear onto your hind legs. You disappear.


	121. Act IV: First, Be the Hat; Second, Find Dad

###  Chapter 121: Act IV: First, Be the Hat. Second, Find Dad

You are now a hat. You were dropped into a parcel pyxis earlier. It is time to be delivered.

The Breeze carries you to where you need to go. Up, up, up through the clouds.

You settle in front of a man in sore need of a fresh hat. His current hat is very dirty.

He gathers you, along with a shoe he found through similarly serendipitous means to replace one he lost.

He pauses before placing you on his head. A little ways away, an older man carrying a huge book comes out of a building set into a hill.

Their eyes meet.

The gentleman carries you with him into the building. The man with the book stands on a blue platform and disappears. The man carrying you does the same.


	122. Act IV: Prepare to Depart for the Battlefield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ PM
>   * _Where:_ Prospit's Moon
>   * _When:_ Present-ish
> 


###  Chapter 122: Act IV: Prepare to Depart for Battlefield

You have traveled to Prospit's moon to board a shuttle headed for the battlefield. There you will seek the counsel of the White King.

You are so focused on thinking about what you have to do next that you don't notice a ridiculous hat rising to the level of the shuttle platform. You have unwittingly been tailed by a nefarious Courtyard Droll from Derse. The little guy has a sword through his middle, just to the side of the little club patch on his chest. Seriously, you're really preoccupied.

You think you maybe feel something moving around your pocket, but when you turn to look nothing is there.

You don't realize that the white queen's ring has been pilfered. None the wiser, you board the shuttle. Next stop, Skaia.


	123. Act IV Be the Courtyard Droll

### Chapter 123: Act IV: Be the Courtyard Droll

You may be a droll, but you are pleased with your cunning.

You receive an incoming message on the radio from the Draconian Dignitary. You tell him you've got the ring. He says good, bring it to him while he waits for an update from the Hegemonic Brute who's been tracing the king's movements down on the battlefield. 

He asks if you're still wearing that ridiculous outfit. He says you don't have to anymore, by orders of the Sovereign Slayer. 

You say... 

You say you'd still rather wear the outfit. 

He's got nothing to say about that.

Suddenly a pale-skinned girl in yellow pajamas comes flying out of nowhere and clobbers you. Your hat flies in one direction as you topple, and the fake sword and the ring fly in another. She delivers additional pummeling while you are still confused.


	124. Act IV: Stop That Thief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade (dreamself)
>   * _Where:_ Prospit's Moon
>   * _When:_ A little bit ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Excessive exclamation marks, violence, heavy-handed foreshadowing

###  Chapter 124: Act IV: Stop That Thief

You've been hanging out in dreamJohn's bedroom, since Dave has forbidden you to do anything to his stuff while you're asleep. You figure if you can't help Dave, maybe you can help John! You've added some cheerful yellow to the walls in his dream bedroom. That has to be better than the clowns he had drawn there in his sleep. You've left a message encouraging him to wake up, and drawn a heart over his head. Maybe it will bring him happy dreams!

You also moved the fanged black clown doll from the bed to the floor. You don't know for sure, but that might help too.

After awhile, though, you get a little bored. Rose has gone idle, and Dave is asleep at his computer, the silly guy! And John is _still_ sleeping and not being very interesting.

You take a look out John's window. The view is a little different from yours, facing in the opposite direction. Your gaze picks out the familiar buildings in reverse. There's the shuttle port...

Hey, what's that?

Is that... a dersite? Wearing an absurd hat as tall as he is, and pickpocketing your friend the Postal Mistress?!

Not. Happening.

You launch yourself out of John's bedroom. You let gravity come into play for once, building up some momentum. You somersault in the air and clobber the thief foot-first. Then you punch him for good measure.

You don't really think about what your dreambot might be doing with your actions. Your dead grandpa can handle the smackdown, anyway.

Pummeling delivered, you hold out your hand for the falling ring.

Sweet catch.

You check out the ring, then head after the shuttle. It's too late. She's gone. You'll have to remember to deliver it later, somehow.

The best way to remind yourself that you're carrying a ring is to put it on your finger.

Gosh, you look really funny with wings and tentacles and a funny hat and everything. Of course it's just an imaginary transformation, since the ring doesn't work like that on humans. It was fun to pretend though.

Certain that the ring is safe, you take out your lunchtop so you can take advantage of Dave's nap to make some architectural headway on his building. Some new friends you met on Prospit's moon gather around to watch and give advice.

You are really proud of your floorplan. No boring square floors for you! Instead you've got columns supporting floors that stick out all over the place. There are a couple stairs along the outside, too. It is 

so

cool

Speaking of naps, you have been asleep for some time yourself. You suppose you'd better wake up soon. 

But then, your neighbor in the other tower is supposed to be waking up soon too, and it sure would be a shame if you weren't around to greet him!

\-- adiosToreador [AT] began trolling gardenGnostic [GG] \-- 

AT: jADE, hI, iS YOUR ROBOT NEARBY, 

Boy, that's a hard question to answer!

GG: ummmmmm.....   
AT: wHERE YOU CAN TYPE, bECAUSE YOU ARE ASLEEP,   
GG: oh! yes it appears so!!!   
AT: oK, uHH, iN THAT CASE, aRE YOU HAVING A PLEASANT NAP,   
GG: i guess! ive been pretty busy here   
GG: ive had to stay asleep for a long time because john is supposed to wake up soon   
GG: but he just wont wake up!!!!!   
GG: im pretty sure im supposed to be the one to wake him but i dont know what to do :(   
AT: uHHHHH,   
GG: huh??   
AT: oHH, sORRY,   
AT: i WAS LOOKING TO SEE IF i COULD SEE HIM BE AWAKE IN THE FUTURE,   
AT: bUT i CANT SEE IN HIS DREAMS, oR ANYTHING,   
GG: oh......   
GG: well thanks for trying anyway!   
AT: bUT YOU WILL WAKE UP SOON, iT LOOKS LIKE,   
AT: sO MAYBE THIS MEANS YOU HAVE SUCCESS,   
GG: i hope so!   
GG: what am i doing when i wake up?   
AT: oH, gOODNESS, tHERE IS SO MUCH GOING ON, aND THERE IS A LOT OF TROUBLE THAT YOU ARE IN,   
GG: oh no!!!!!   
AT: bUT, wHAT IT COMES DOWN TO IS, iS THAT YOU DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME ANYWAY,   
AT: tHIS IS YOUR LAST DAY,   
AT: bEFORE YOU MAKE THE RIFT,   
AT: aND THEN i CAN'T SEE WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THAT, aNYMORE,   
AT: wHICH IS OK, wITH ME, bECAUSE, tO BE HONEST,   
AT: sEEING YOUR WHOLE BIG CONFUSING FUTURE AND PAST IS, kIND OF OVERWHELMING,   
GG: yes i know what you mean....   
AT: iTS SO COMPLICATED, aND, i DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT i SHOULD BE ACCOMPLISHING,   
AT: i THINK,   
AT: uSING THESE GADGETS AND THINGS, aND MY TIME LINE ADVANTAGES, tO PLAY PRANKS ON YOU,   
GG: that sounds like it would be fun!   
GG: but you guys never even played pranks on me, you were always just kinda mean D:   
AT: sORRY, }:(   
AT: i THINK,   
AT: tHE IDIOTIC THING ABOUT TROLLIAN IS,   
AT: iF YOU USE IT TO TROLL PEOPLE, i THINK YOU ARE JUST AS LIKELY TO GET TROLLED YOURSELF,   
AT: mAYBE EVEN MORE BADLY,   
AT: wHICH i THINK IS WHAT IS GOING ON HERE, jUST BETWEEN YOU AND ME,   
GG: well i know i havent trolled you guys!   
GG: or not yet.........   
GG: heheheh   
AT: nO,   
AT: bUT YOU SORT OF ARE,   
AT: mY FRIEND IS GOING CRAZY, hE WANTS TO TALK TO YOU,   
AT: hE LEFT YOU A MESSAGE, a LONG TIME AGO ON YOUR TIME LINE,   
AT: tO TALK TO HIM, wHEN YOUR ROBOT BLOWS UP,   
GG: oh yeah!   
GG: i totally forgot about that   
GG: does it really blow up or was that another trick?   
AT: uHHHH,   
AT: i DON'T KNOW, i CAN'T SEE IT BLOW UP IN YOUR FUTURE,   
AT: nOT ON SCREEN,   
AT: i MEAN,   
AT: tHERE ARE LOTS OF EXPLOSIONS, aLL THE TIME, aNYWAY,   
AT: tOO MANY EXPLOSIONS,   
GG: hmmmmm   
GG: you could ask me in the future!   
AT: oK, i WILL ASK,   
AT: oK,   
AT: yOU SAID, yES, iT DID BLOW UP, aND YOU TALKED TO HIM,   
AT: aND, uHHH,   
AT: tHEN YOU SAID HE WAS ACTUALLY A PRETTY NICE GUY, wHICH i THOUGHT WAS WEIRD,   
GG: is he not a nice guy?   
AT: nOT, rEALLY,   
GG: hmmm....   
GG: well maybe hes just been through some tough times   
GG: maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt?   
AT: uHHHH,   
GG: for whatever its worth i think youre a pretty nice guy too!   
AT: oKAY, tHANK YOU,   
GG: also you seem to be the only one who ever thinks to talk to me while im asleep!   
GG: why is that?   
AT: oH, i GUESS,   
AT: tHAT IT MAKES SENSE,   
AT: bECAUSE YOU HAVE A ROBOT, tO LET YOU SAY THINGS THAT HAPPEN, oN PROSPIT,   
AT: aND i'M CURIOUS,   
AT: bECAUSE THE ONLY TIME i EVER HAD FUN PLAYING THIS GAME WAS WHEN i WAS ASLEEP,   
AT: bUT NOW ALL OUR DREAM SELVES ARE DEAD,   
AT: }:'(   
GG: oh no!!! 

That sounds really sad! You have a lot of fun on Prospit too, and you wouldn't want to give it up. Oh, and...

GG: dream selves can die?   
AT: yEAH,   
GG: i never knew that   
GG: or even thought about it....   
GG: i guess it makes sense though   
AT: uHH, yEAH,   
AT: sO ENJOY YOUR NAP,   
AT: wHILE IT LASTS,   
AT: bYE,

This guy might be the politest troll you've met. You guess they're not all bad.

Anyway, enough sitting around. Maybe you'll go check on John again, or visit with some Prospitian friends.


	125. Act IV: Rise Up

### Chapter 125: Act IV: Rise Up

_Meanwhile, in a Timeless expanse… Somewhere, a Warweary Villein rues eternal struggle between feuding royalty._

The battlefield holds little promise for the peaceful life of a simple farmer.

You are rather proud of your scarecrow made of pink and purple rags draped over a simple cross. A helmet/bucket with a spirograph on the side stands in for a head. A white sash over the shoulder adds dignity. 

The battlefield has transformed again and again, from a simple three-by-three square to a cube with water and trees to an almost perfect sphere with terrain beneath the black and white pattern. There are rivers and hills, trees and green fields. Not everybody here is a soldier.

Even so, armies bearing purple or yellow standards march across once peaceful fields. More soldiers from both sides slide down ropes from shuttles and pour out of massive flying ships to join the brutal fight. Creatures engineered just for this arrive, to great devastation. Grass is set aflame. Crops are trampled by steeds and monsters without care.

You can see one such battle from the hill where your life burns around you. You glance at your burning scarecrow, then at your so carefully planted crops.

This is because of the kings and queens, fighting over land that is not theirs.

The black king is on the battlefield, a massive figure holding a scepter in his single hand. A blue and white orb sits at the top, surrounded by four equally spaced white pearls.

Something overhead casts a shadow on the ground. It does not quite look like a bird, though it does have wings. Are those tentacles, trailing from its sides?

No matter. Not your concern. You stand on the hilltop in your purple hood, and call to the carapacians on both sides of the conflict. Why should they fight for kings and queens? You think there is a better way.

They follow you by the tens and the hundreds, armed with swords and spears. You are armed only with a tattered red flag.

You march up to the black king. He is very big, and you are afraid but still determined.

What's that?

You notice something flying overhead that is definitely not a bird. Nor is it the black queen, though his carapace is equally dark. He wears a clown hat like the king, and the remnants of a colorful shirt around his neck. He has big black wings and black tentacles and a sword through his middle. He has only one eye and a fearsome scowl.

He takes the sword and slices through the black king's scepter just above his hand. The end with the Skaian orb falls. The king shrinks down to only twice your size, instead of twenty.

The scowling winged swordsman lands next to the king, and beheads the king before he can react. Then he puts the king's crown on his own head.

You do not have a good feeling about this.

 

#### ==>PM: Meet Your Other Sovereign

_Across a Battlefield, a Postal Mistress has a delivery to expedite._

The shuttle to the battlefield is mercifully short. You summon up your determination and approach your king. As you are taking one final check to make sure you have everything (hit list, regisword that you won't use, queen's crown…) you realize with a start that the queen's ring is missing! Oh dear, this is not good! How could you have lost it?

Despite this, you soldier on and bow before your king. He is a dignified fellow, and accepts your explanation without much hesitation. He simply shrinks down and hands over his scepter and crown.

A Hegemonic Brute pops up out of nowhere. He looks very menacing with his bulky arms up in the air. He punches you with all the strength you feared. The scepter goes flying and tumbles over a waterfall, out of sight. The big brute, undeterred, attacks you again.

You cannot let this happen. You have a delivery to make, and _nothing_ stops the mail.


	126. Act IV Alchemize Abundantly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No excuses. Moving on…
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your House
>   * _When:_ Present (directly from chapter 119)
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Punch-card Alchemy, reckless Magic

###  Chapter 126: Act IV: Alchemize Abundantly

You and Viceroy Bubbles Von Salamancer ascend to the Alchemiter.

  


You combine the hub and your laptop to make the hubtop. That one was pretty obvious. Now your computer has built-in internet and power.

You combine the bronzed vacuum and umbrella to make the bronzed vacuumbrella. What is the point of a vacuum with a built in umbrella? Useless. 

But you're still getting warmed up.

Salamander || eldritch plush = huggable soft salamancer plush. You award it to the Viceroy on account of good behavior, and he is very pleased.

Ink bottle && blue gushers = Bodacious Black Liquid Sorrow Gushers, for 1000 tar. Another Crocker nightmare rears its ugly head. The ink reverses the healing properties of the blue phlegm. These are pure poison.

Hubtop && hair band = the Hubtopband, a convenient hands-free computing device. The bright green headband and mini screen over your eye does not exactly go with your usual ensemble, but for the sake of convenience you will not even pretend to care.

Magnetic “W” && bottle of vodka = a bottle of Magnetic Wodka. In addition to having high alcohol content, the liquid inside appears to have magnetic properties. 

You... You _guess_ this could be useful?

Wizard statue && ball of yarn = silken wizardbeard yarn (with magical properties). It has magical properties because it is made of a wizard. 

Maybe you can make something with magical properties that is more useful than this. 

Wizard statue || knitting needles = Needlewands, for a couple thousand of several types of grist. They crackle with the majyyk enyrjjies. You test them out, and blow off the head of the wizard statue, leaving the rest riddled with cracks.

Oh yes.

It is time to make something cool to wear.

Knittings && velvet pillow || squiddle shirt = velvet squiddleknit dress for 2100 shale, 700 amber, and 1 tar. You immediately change into this very stylish dress. The bodice is made primarily of black and purple vertical stripes. The skirt is purple velvet, and around your waist and over your shoulders are cords of gold braid. Centered over your belly button is a white squiddle skull.

Needlewands && grimoire = the Thorns of Oglogoth, for a total of 18,666 of various grists. The black and silver striped needles seem to shiver with the dark desires of The Deep One and glow with purple light. At the base of each needle is a white skull. Any sane adventurer would cast these instruments of the occult into the Furthest Ring and forget they ever existed.

You've finished alchemizing just in time. Your home is positively crawling with encroaching malefactors. Ogres, winged liches, and the usual imps are everywhere.

You brandish the Thorns of Oglogoth, and aggrieve. Light sparks, and you fancy you hear the howls of the damned.

WELCOME TO THE PARTY MOTHERFUCKERS.


	127. Act IV: Wake Up and Jam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you normally leave "creator's style" off, I recommend turning it back on for this chapter. You could probably figure out which Dave is talking from context, but it will be easier to do with the colors present.
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Derse (your dreamself's bedroom)
>   * _When:_ A short time ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Dave's collection of dead things, weird things in jars, actual purple prose, Dave's mouth, minor cliffhanger

###  Chapter 127: Act IV: Wake Up and Jam

Once Rose disappears, waking herself, you lean out your window. Yeah, you can kiss that obnoxious puppet goodbye. Maybe now you can get a decent night's sleep.

Far far below, you don't see Lil Cal make an improbable landing on a rocketboard, but someone else does.

With no Rose to keep you asleep, you wake up intending to jam.

And by "jam" you mean "alchemize" of course. You grab the code for Rose's journal from the screenshot you snapped, and head for the stairs. You take out some imps along the way, trying out the sweet new ½ blade Davesprite gave you.

Whoa your house is huge suddenly. The roof is no longer the roof, but the Alchemiter is still here. 

Anyway let's get this party started.

Sunglasses && iPhone = iShades. This one was really obvious cause future Dave had a pair, but he took them with him when he prototyped himself. But now you have a pair too so that's cool.

Timetables && computer = Turntop. Your keyboard ends up split between the two floating gears, and your screen floats between them. Convenient computing on the go. Sort of like you have with your iShades, but with all your important files and apps on there. Not to mention Sburb. 

Plus _maybe_ it has some weird time powers??? You have no idea. You'll mess with it later.

You upgrade the puppet tux future Dave made. He probably made it by combining one of your bro's badass marionette suits with your shirt, and scaling it up to fit. That's how you would have made it anyway. You add a smuppet to the mix to make a softer and more stylish red plush puppet tux. The suit is red, the bowtie is white, and the pants look red in the right light. They are also a lot more comfortable. It is like walking around in snugly pajamas. _Action pajamas._

You combine a couple more items you got from future Dave's loot stash. The broken form of your sword, Caledscratch, and some ruby contraband, whatever the hell that is. Kinda looks like a red frog, but that can't be right.

The resulting item costs a fortune, including 1,000,000 of some grist you haven't come across yet. You have no idea what it is.

You momentarily reconfigure your Alchemiter upgrades to make use of the holopad extension. You pop the card in the slot and check it out. The combination would produce the Broken Scarlet Ribbitar. The sword would be red, with a red frog sitting on a lily pad or something for the hilt guard.

Out of curiosity you try it again with a whole sword. 

You dial back Caledscratch's little turntable, rewinding the sword to a point in its history before it was broken. You then combine it with the red frog thingy to show the complete Scarlet Ribbitar. But there's no way you can afford to make that yet. It costs even more now. 

Maybe you'll stick to combining items around your house for now, rather than stuff from your future sylladex. It'll be less confusing that way, and probably less expensive.

You use one of your bro's really shitty swords from the fridge and a printout of Hella Jeff to make a sord..... for 0 build grist. This thing is so unspeakably shitty you are having a hard time even holding it. Come on.

Snoop Dogg photo && mini A/C || Caledscratch = the Snoop Dogg Snow Cone Machete. The hilt guard on this sword is Snoopy's doghouse, with Peanut's characters painted on. 

When foes drop it like it's hot just turn up the blizzizzle nozzle so they chizzlax fo' rizzle.

Skateboard && Hella Jeff drawing = Unreal Air, again at no cost. You study it for a moment.

And there it goes, floating away. It is _ridiculous_ what kind of air this thing is getting. Dude come get the ruler check this out. 

Yeah, it's not coming back.

You just make another one. You quickly stash it in a card so it can't escape from above.

 _Gamebro Magazine_ && timetables = Vintage Gamebro. You think you remember this one from your bro's stash. It's a classic.

Battarang && Midnight Crew poster = Suitarangs.  
  
You make a whole pile because they are really cool and pretty cheap.

Plush puppet tux && Midnight Crew poster = Four Aces Suited. This suit is entirely black, except for the white scratched record on the right side and the white tie. You aren't really sure which one you like better. The red one is softer, while the black one is sort of stiff and starchy. Anyone wearing this suit is all business. 

Maybe you'll switch it up as your mood dictates. For now you've got some business to take care of.

Plush puppet tux && Felt poster = Felt Duds, if you had some of whatever that green grist is. For now you will have to go without the bright green suit.

Smuppet && Felt poster = jutting out and impudent felt plush. Not only is the resulting smuppet green and wearing a green tuxedo, but he is also wearing a red beanie cap. You do an acrobatic fucking pirouette off the handle and into his heart. And he, into yours.

Dead things in amber && smuppet = foam mutant smuppet encased in amber. The block of amber is bigger than you are, and the red smuppet inside has a lobster claw and extra eyes. Now we're getting somewhere.

For the sake of science, you ||-combine them instead of &&-combine.

Dead things in amber || smuppet = amber mutant smuppet abomination. The huge smuppet looks exactly the same, except made out of amber rather than encased in it. So cool. Now this is how you make shit work. Egbert and Lalonde should be taking notes.

Fetus in a jar && Mr. T puppet = Foam fetal Mr. T in a jar. Another backbreaking victory for science.

You're looking pretty chill with your new freakshow entourage. 

The enemy underlings all look kind of put off by it though. You're kind of weirding them out.

You're not done yet!

Camera && captchalogue card = captcharoid camera. You can use it to snap a ghost image of any object without captchaloguing it. Spits it out on a brand new captchalogue card every time. Could be a useful way to take a large inventory of anything you encounter without cluttering up your sylladex. Also for grabbing codes for stuff you can't ordinarily pick up.

You take one of your patented ironic cool guy self portraits. Both sides of your face get cut off.

Man. So cool. 

thats really all there is to say on the matter

Fetus in a jar && self portrait photo would make Dave's brain in a jar. Gross. 

It costs a king's ransom though because of course the organ is virtually inimitable. Doesn't stop you from captcharoiding its hologram though. 

Ok, that's probably the weirdest thing you've ever done, but ok.

Brain && SbaHJ drawing || captcharoid camera = SBaHJifier. It looks like a fancy camera, but drawn on a screen with shitty resolution. Finally, something useful. It cost you -1000 units of artifact grist.

You immediately try it out by snapping a photo of Davesprite. Looks like it automatically prints out a [SBaHJ comic](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/storyfiles/hs2/01846_3.gif) in some way related to whatever you take a picture of. 

This should save you a lot of time. Specifically the five minutes it takes you to draw a comic. You're a busy guy.

Ok, sweet haul, but can't forget the most important thing you came up here to make. You make copies of Rose's journals.

Gotta be gettin' your snoop on.

You take a seat on a ledge and take a look. One book is titled "MEOW". The other is titled "Complacency of the Learned". 

Gee, you wonder what could be in _MEOW_.

MWOEWEOWOEOEOEOWMWMWMWMWOMMWOEWEOWMOEWOMOEOEWMOWMWEOWOEWMEWMMWOMEWEOWEOEWOMOWEMWMOEWEOEMWMOMMWEMWOMWEWWMWMWOEWEOMWMWOWEOWMEOMEWEMOMWEMWMOEWMOEWMOEWMWEWOMEWMOEMWOMEWMEWEMWMOEOMMMOMOMOMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWEWMEOMWEMMOWWMWWMWMOEWEOOOMOMOEEOMWMWEOWEOMWMOWMWEOMWEMWOWMWOEOMWEOMWWWMWEWEWEWOWOWEOOMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWOEOEOWMWMWMWMWOMOEWOMOEOEWMOWMWEOWWMWMWOEWEOMWMWEWEOWEOEWOMOWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWEWMEOMWEMMWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWEWMEOMWEMMMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWWMWMWOEWEOMWMWOMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWOEOEOWMWMWMWMWOMMWEWEWEWOWOWEOOMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWEWMEOMWEMMWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWEWMEOMWEMMMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWWMWMWOEWEOMWMWOMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWOEOEOWMWMWMWMWOMWWMWMWOEWEOMWMWOMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWEWMEOMWEMMMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWWMWMWOEWEOMWMWOMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWOEOEOWMWMWMWMWOMWWMWMWOEWEOMWMWWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWEWMEOMWEMMWWMWMWOEWEOMWMWOMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWOEOEOWMWMWMWMWOMWWMWMWOEWEOMWMWOMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWWMWMWOEWEOMWMWOMWEWEWEWOWOWEOWMOWOEOEOWMWMWMWMWOMWMOWOEOEOWMWMWMW

To no surprise at all, this book is full of more MEOW letters. Looks like Rose is totally nuts. What else is new. You guess you'll try out the other book. Looks like it's some sort of creative writing project.

_Frigglish bothered his beard, as if unkinking a hitch in a long silk windsock. A more pedestrian audience would parse the exhibit as nervous compulsion. Behavior to petition contempt among the reasonable. He was however not surrounded by the reasonable, but the wise, a distinction in men that would forever be the difference in history's garland of treasured follies. As a matter of fact, his cadre of fellow wizards were all putting similar moves on their beards as well. The practice would evince thoughtfulness - sagacity, even - if they didn't do it all the time. Standing in line at the bank. Shooing squirrels from bird feeders. Few occasions were safe._

_Zazzerpan inspected the clue. A single piece of evidence cradled in his coriaceous old man palms. It was a human bone, not striking in the tale it told alone so much as that told by the thousands like it festooning the marshy soil of the mass grave. The grisly expanse bore the texture of a decadent dessert, like one of Smarny's formidable custard trifles wobbled out on wheels for the holidays, to the dismay of a small nation._

_"You're certain of this?" asked Frigglish. Despite what he was doing with his beard, he was, in fact, immersed in meaningful contemplation._

_"I am afraid I am becoming more so with each terrible tick groused by that gaudy timepiece slung around your neck." In case it wasn't clear, Frigglish wore a clock Zazzerpan didn't care for. It was magic. "The massacre of Syrs Gnelph was not as written."_

_"What has you convinced it was the hand of our disciples in this blackness?" Executus chimed in._

_"I believe... I..." a fat face stammered, eyes darting with the guilt of a thief in the throes of an unraveling alibi. "I can summon a... more pressing line of inquiry..." No, Smarny. Nobody was in the mood for a sticky bundt loaf just now._

_Zazzerpan's ears fell insubstantial to any line of inquiry, pastry-oriented or otherwise. His abstruse contour carved a pondering shape in the fog carpeting centuries-dead. His eleven contemporaries too embraced the muted consternation of their great Predicant Scholar. Few wizards kept sharper adumbratives or read them with such lucidity. When Zazzerpan treated men with silence it was seldom unrepaid by the wise and reasonable alike._

_It was harrowing to entertain. Zazzerpan the Learned's storied Complacency of Wizards was marked for grander descendence. Disciples hand-picked, vetted by Ockite the Bonafide and tested by Gastrell the Munificent. The twelve sweetest, most studious children a pair of elderly eyes could give their sparkle. Not the ragged guttersnipe so oft-harvested by the common Obscenity, those vituperative little beggars with hearts to corrupt as dropped bananas brown. That these chosen youngsters would turn was not merely unthinkable, but something of a roundhouse to the temporal bones of the Upper Indifference's high chamber of Softskulled Prophets._

_His wisdom-savaged brow pruned further with recount of his many lessons to wouldbe successors. Lessons to advance humanity's elucidation and prosperity, an outcome this bleak trail now painfully obviated. There were few puzzles The Learned could not suspend and dissect in the recondite manifold beneath his extremely expensive pointy hat. Daring to pitch his cherished pupils in with the foul melange of history's rogues, the heretofore abstract scourge that built up civilizations with ungodly magic and tore them down with joyful malice, would prove an intellectual trespass to make his calcium-deficient bones quake._

_And more daring yet was the only question that now mattered. Could a bunch of bearded, scraggly old men in preposterous outfits hunt them down? He didn't have an answer. Only a simple observation so blunt and uncharacteristically jejune for the lauded sage it was breathtaking in its selfevidency._

_"We're going to need more wands." (Wow. Think of something better.)_

This wizard story seems really involved and kind of confusing. You'll have to save your place and dig into it later, and then maybe ask Rose what the hell the deal with it is. You return to your room in search of a bookmark. 

Oh, hey. Finally a use for that pointless juice stained beta that will never serve any purpose, past or future. You tuck the beta inside the notebook and drop it on the john in case you're looking for some reading material later.

Since you're in your room, you check on Rose on your computer. She appears to be standing in her room, shooting fire out of her wand at her journal. Ok, you've got to ask what that's about.

TG: whoa why are you burning your wizard fanfiction   
TT: I'm not.   
TT: This book contains a genetic code.   
TG: oh ok   
TG: then why are you burning that   
TT: The gods from the Furthest Ring asked me to.   
TG: is that some dumb wizard thing you just made up   
TG: or something to do with tentacle monsters   
TG: i cant keep track of what you like anymore   
TT: How did you know I wrote a story about wizards, anyway?   
TG: john told me   
TG: he was all snoopin around your room while you were asleep and i was like no man dont   
TG: so not cool   
TG: then he was like haha dude check it out this book is full of wizard slash   
TG: and i was like i dont even want to know this is such a crazy violation of privacy   
TT: This story sounds suspicious.   
TG: do you want me to chew him out about it i will because that was so outrageous i dont know where he got off being like that   
TT: No, I don't actually mind.   
TT: Too bad I missed him.   
TG: i thought you hated wizards   
TG: whats the deal with that   
TT: I like wizards.   
TT: What I don't like is my mother's obsession with feigning interest in them to antagonize me.   
TG: oh man thats so messed up   
TG: that you think that   
TG: she probably digs wizards for real just like you and youre blowing shit out of proportion like pretty much always   
TG: you and she could probably have been chatting up how awesome wizards were this whole time but no 

You are so glad your relationship with Bro isn't that complicated.

TG: youre probably burning your nutjob meow book to spite her too arent you   
TT: No, I told you.   
TT: It's one of the gene sequences locked in my subconcious.   
TT: The gods say it's critical to destroy it.   
TG: oh yeah   
TG: i thought that was a joke   
TG: when did they say that   
TT: When I was asleep.   
TG: you mean when we were dancing and stuff in our dreams   
TT: Yes.   
TT: When I flew to your tower, I heard them.   
TT: They're far above, in the dark sky.   
TG: ive never seen or heard these things in my dreams   
TT: Aren't you often distracted?   
TT: By music and puppets?   
TG: uh yeah   
TT: Have you ever looked into the sky without your shades?   
TG: no what a ridiculous question   
TT: Maybe you should try it some time.   
TG: ....   
TT: You're the prince of the moon. 

You wait for that to make sense.

TG: ........   
TT: I'm sure they've been meaning to seek a royal audience. 

She's being sarcastic again. You think.

TG: ..........................   
TT: What do all these dots mean.........   
TG: dunno   
TG: anyway yeah i guess ill do that   
TG: get some sky monsters to boss me around sounds cool

You notice another window filled with purple text in your Persterchum account. You click on it (because why not?) to find that bird-you must be using the turn-top to get an answer to your original question.

TG: so really why are you burning that   
TT: I just explained this to Other Dave.   
TT: Do I have to explain everything to you twice now?   
TG: no i know   
TG: im using daves spare computer i saw the whole conversation through his pesterchum account   
TT: Oh, I see.   
TT: So instead of having to double explain, I merely have to put up with being double spied upon.   
TT: What a relief!   
TG: i just mean   
TG: you didnt burn that book in the future   
TG: that book was completely pointless   
TT: I know.   
TT: But now it's not.   
TT: You appeared to make it relevant by traveling to the past.   
TG: so does that mean the sleeping thing worked   
TG: you remember the future   
TT: I remember some things.   
TG: ok cool   
TG: so why is the cat code so terrible now   
TT: I don't know.   
TT: But the gods were pretty emphatic about it.   
TG: well ok i guess its done but why are you so sure theyre right   
TT: Have you ever known them to be wrong?   
TG: i guess not   
TG: but they sort of freak me out   
TG: i mean listening to gross space mutants all day isnt my idea of an awesome time   
TG: especially the ones that sing oh god   
TT: Is that why you always kept the music turned up?   
TG: no i flip out to ill jams because they kick ass   
TG: obviously   
TT: I guess we'll chalk another riddle up in the solved column.   
TG: yeah case the fuck closed 

So maybe this is a little more serious than you thought, and she's not just yanking your chain.

TG: are you talking to future me   
TT: Yes.   
TG: ok im out of the loop again   
TG: between you taking orders from dream beasts and bird wing me with like   
TG: future secrets   
TG: im doing some sort of spectacular fucking jackknife off the loop and getting a wink and a nod from barack obana   
TG: im coming upstairs   
TT: Ok.

Behind you, eyes blink in the darkness outside your open window. You are gone before a fellow with a diamond on his chest crawls into your room.

On the roof, you chill with Davesprite. Business hours are over, so you switch to the plush puppet tux for comfort.

"so it was pretty funny how i made a copy of roses evil book right before she burned it and now she doesnt know about it"  
"i know its crazy what kind of foresight this guy has"  
"im telling you coincidences like that are unreal they dont even happen"  
He pauses for dramatic irony. "most of the time"  
"the best thing about how i did that is how it in no way will ever come back to bite us in the ass ever"   
"dude our shit is SAFE"  
"so safe"   
"gonna sleep pretty sound tonight"  
"with that big fucking payload of safety you just got dropped on us"  
"gonna be all huggin my pillow and shit"  
"grinning like a goddamn bear full of honey"  
"safer than some flintstone vitamins in a bottle"   
"keep twisting junior all you get is clicks"   
"asshole thinks its candy"  
"doesnt even know he just stepped on a security rake and got a face full of fucking safety"  
You nod. "yeah"   
"anyway guess ill go back down and burn that book"  All joking aside, you know how to get down to business when the time comes."  
"alright"


	128. Act IV: Follow Lil Cal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Authority Regulator
>   * _Where:_ Derse's Moon
>   * _When:_ Simultaneous with the previous chapter
> 


###  Chapter 128: Act IV: Follow Lil Cal

You are walking down the street on Derse, minding your own business, when you happen to look up.

Some kind of doll-thing in purple is falling from one of the towers on the moon. It lands sitting on an unpiloted red rocket board that happens to be flying by.

Ok, this is the most ridiculous thing you have ever seen. What is taking place here is almost certainly illegal. You're not sure which laws are being broken, but it is probably a lot.

You follow the rocket board as it comes to rest over a circular platform and disappears. You hastily stand in the same spot, and vanish.

When you reappear somewhere else, the doll is no longer on the rocket board. You eye the latter.

You fail to resist the urge to ride the rocket board. But you do at least take it outside the lab. The meteor has plenty of space for you to put this thing through its paces.

You start thrashing up stunts something uncannybrutal on your quest for "MAD JUSTICE YO" and get this way rude municipality under control. Shit is basically flying off the hook. It's like shit wants nothing to do with that hook. The hook filed for divorce from that shit and is now seeking custody of the hook and the shit's two kids.

These hops are unreal. Shit this flagrant should be illegal. It probably is. 

But you don't care.

You take the board off the meteor. You are ripping up so many hellaceous shreds this fierceshitty biznasty is getting so deliriously rudebrazen it... 

Ok you lost the handle on that sentence. 

Oh my god, is that what you think it is?

It is! A large, tapered square column with an illegal amphibian squatting on top, surrounded by four smaller columns with spheres on top. Off to the side of the crater in the meteor is an even shorter column, this one with a tiny column attached to the side. This thing is so completely illegal. 

How could this atrocity be floating out here unnoticed all this time? 

You are going to throw whoever is responsible into the slammer. You always call jail the slammer when you are extra angry at crimes.

You go in, barely able to look at the iconography on the green walls. There is a large elevator platform ahead. You ride it down.

Below there is a dark cavernous room. Near the platform is a time capsule. It has deployed a seed, and waits for something to be deposited, and for the clock to be set. 

It is all harmless enough. Still no sign of any perpetrators.

Deeper into the darkness of the room there is some complicated lab equipment. Again, nothing particularly unusual for this jurisdiction. 

There is a large monitor. Displayed on it is a small human girl in a fancy house. An extremely dirty hat sits incongruously on the floor. The date is April 21, 1910.

Eight days prior, the orphan girl was taken in by an aristocratic southern colonel and legendary humorist. He recovered the young lady from a crater where a bakery once stood, operated by the man's wife, a notable baked goods baroness.

There is an explosion in the colonel's back yard, seen through the doorway. Both girl and man brace themselves. Land sakes alive, we are cooking with petrol now!

The colonel and his new grand daughter investigate. 

The impact site is where a dog house stood moments ago. It was the magnificent abode of the man's beloved pet, Halley. The man takes a belt from the old julep flask. He'd sooner perish himself than lose that dear animal.

_Bang._

People would think reports of the man's death were greatly exaggerated. But they weren't.

This is exactly why babies should not be allowed to dual-wield flintlock pistols. A small boy sits at the bottom on the crater, completely uncaring of the manslaughter he just committed.

He crawls out of the crater, and the girl welcomes him with open arms. An old colonel lost, but a new brother gained.

Ah ha! There's Halley. On the screen, he has a red target locked on him. The youngsters adore their new guardian. Good dog. Best friend. 

The young boy has difficulty pronouncing the name though. Sounds more like "Harley" when he says it.

You fast forward. Thirteen years later, the boy develops a taste for adventure. He and his guardian bid farewell. His sister is sad. She will be left all alone with the wicked pastry baroness. She can handle it, he tells her. He believes in her.

This all seems pointless to you, and immaterial to the crime that has been committed. Though you do find it odd that the appearifier target has been fixed over that especially stupid looking animal. 

You hear the elevator platform. Someone is coming. You hide yourself behind the some equipment and cautiously peer over the top.

It is a high ranking agent from your kingdom, the one with a red diamond on his coat. Could he be the man behind this crime? Could his intent be mutinous? 

You know the agent to be far too dangerous to take into custody. You remain hidden and observe him closely.

He appears to be holding some notebooks, the top one titled “MEOW”. Also what appears to be a pair of juice-stained envelopes. Only one of the books is useful to him. The envelopes are useless. And he couldn't make it through more than a paragraph of the other book. Some weird thing about wizards. He discards them. 

The spare notebook lands on the floor. The envelopes land in the seed of the time capsule. The time capsule stores the seed, and on account of some default setting, is programmed to bloom several hundred million years from now. The capsule then readies a new seed.

The agent approaches another device near the large monitor. There is a screen showing the stupid looking animal. Next to it are four “&” signs, then a slot with triangles pointing to it. The terminal has a stick, a big blue button with four circles, and a green button with a helix on it.

The agent wastes no time in sliding the journal into the slot. Green MEOW letters start running across the screen. Then he presses the blue button and a green slime ghost that matches the beast on the screen appears and is sucked up. Then he presses the green button.

Light flares, too bright to look at. Pulsing white turns to green lightning that shatters the surrounding screens, and a small devilbeast appears. It is neither a cat nor a dog, but something in between, with pointed ears, fluffy cheeks, a sharp muzzle, and a shaggy tail.

You have just witnessed something horrible, and quite illegal. You are sure of it.


	129. Act IV: Explore Yourself Right Off The Planet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ LOLAR
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Unconventional baby-making

### Chapter 129: Act IV: Explore Yourself Right Off The Planet

You explore Rose's planet at high speed. The gold clouds zip by you as you squint down at the sparkling ocean.

You spy a boat on the shore of one of the islands below. You wonder who could be out here rowing in the middle of the ocean. There's not much on the island, except for some pink ruins. You'd better investigate.

You land on the thankfully soft sand. Hoofprints in the sand lead from the boat to the ruins. The mystery deepens.

You enter. There are many frightening and powerful monsters in here. The caulk lichs are twice your height, almost entirely gray, and have horned skulls like you think you'd find in the desert.

You pull out Fear No Anvil and give it a swing. You stun them with the cool time powers of your awesome new hammer, and then dispatch them swiftly. Seriously, you do some crazy damage.

The good Doctor Spengler helps you gather the riches: lots of big gray teardrop things and bluish diamonds.

You proceed down the purple hallway. There's a platform over here. You guess you'll go stand on it oh wow it just made you disappear.

You aren't entirely aware where you end up. It's not like you can glance out a window and check out the meteors drifting around you or anything. But the room you're in is pretty obviously a fancy lab.

Hey, your book! How'd that get here?

Now what in the hell is going on in here?

In addition to your new-looking copy of _Sassacre_ , you find some rather strange things gathered around the transportalizer you just used: A white pony with a pink bow in her mane and a pink heart on her flank. A creepy ventriloquist's dummy in purple pajamas that you guess might be Lil Cal. What looks like your dad's oil-stained hat.

You look further than the weird collection. In the middle of the room is a huge device or something. There're four really really big tubes containing chess pieces all hooked up to wires. Crowding around these four tubes are much smaller jar things holding black and white figures that are your size.

Now what in the hell is going on in here?

Who cares. You're going to ride the pony.

YES. FUCK YES. HELL FUCKING YES.

But seriously what in the hell is going on in here.

You keep exploring. You find a sweet getup. The jacket is bright green and buttons along the side. The pants are a darker green. But the belt... the black belt totally has Slimer as the buckle. It's almost as if it was tailor made for you. How weird would that be???

You waste no time in equipping the junior ectobiologist's lab suit.

Then you look at the four monitored house-shaped terminal thingie next to the headless mannequin.

NOW WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE??? 

(Of course it's obvious what's going on in here.)

You push one of the nearby buttons. It activates the upper right monitor. The view is locked on to a particular location on Earth at a particular date and time. Whoever was in the lab appears to have recently calibrated this device.

The monitor displays a town on the west coast of the United States. It appears to be your old neighborhood. But there is a red Betty Crocker factory there you do not recognize. The date is December 1st, 1995, a few months before you were born.

You zoom in on the factory. Walking along the road beside it an old woman is escorted by her son on a lovely day. A red target has been locked over the gentleman's mother.

A meteor overhead looms unnoticed. They witness the destruction of the facility. Collateral damage to a corporation owned by a renowned billionaire explorer. 

A mystery begins.

You press the big blue button with four circles on it in the middle of the panel.

The machine next to the terminal whirs to life. You create a paradox ghost imprint of the woman you recognize to be your grandmother on the circular platform. Your grandmother's figure quickly slumps down into a pile of neon green sludge. The ghost sludge is sucked into a glass tube to the left of the platform.

You switch to the lower monitor displaying a view of a remote island in the Pacific, on December 3rd, 1995. A renowned billionaire explorer with a huge gun approaches on his yacht. An old factory lost two days prior, but a new shipmate gained. Said shipmate is a baby girl wearing round glasses and cuddling a bunny that is half made of purple knitted patches. Together they settle the island and plunder its secrets.

A meteor overhead streaks unnoticed, headed toward an unseasonably warm city in the central United States.

You press the blue button again, creating a paradox ghost imprint of the man you spotted in the woods with your book. The ghost sludge is collected in another tube on the left.

You switch to the third screen. It shows a view of an unseasonably warm city in the central United States, on December 4th, 1995. You zoom in on a billowing pillar of smoke. An outrageously awesome dude in anime shades and a baseball cap stands before a crater where his favorite record shop stood one day prior.

He is prepared for the occasion with a small pair of outrageously awesome shades. 

A meteor overhead races unnoticed, headed to a lake near a laboratory on the east coast of the United States. No aquatic life would survive.

You press the blue button a third time. You create a paradox ghost imprint of the outrageously awesome dude. The sludge is allocated to one of another pair of tubes on the right.

You switch again to a view of your neighborhood, on April 13th, 1996. It is the day of your birth. 

There is more real estate you do not recognize near the recently devastated baked goods facility, now a crater. It is a shopping mall you have never seen before.

You zoom in on the shop on the corner, Prankster's Gambit. You'd love the chance to shop there! A professional lady and new mother has traveled from the opposite coast at the behest of a famous and wealthy scientist to study one of numerous recent celestial anomalies while he is on expedition. 

She notices a meteor overhead, on collision course with the quaint family joke shop. A distinguished gentleman who looks a lot like your dad notices the lady and comes outside to greet her, oblivious to the threat above. The gentleman's mother remains inside, busying herself with a tall bookshelf, a ladder, and a rather hefty unabridged joke book.

The meteor strikes. An old mother lost today, but a new son gained.

The gentleman discovers a clue. A pink scarf has been left on the sidewalk. A powerful nose detects perfume. The lady has fled. The mystery deepens.

But the monitor on the screen has not lost track of the lady. Nor the blond baby girl cuddling an oil-stained bunny nearby.

You press the blue button for the fourth time. You create a paradox ghost imprint of the professional lady. The sludge fills the final tube. 

Once all the tubes are filled, an automated sequence begins to execute. The letters ACGT scroll past too fast to read on the screens below the tubes. Green lights near the floor flash.

Four young paradox clones are created on the large round platform near the machine.

There's one more button you haven't pushed yet, a green one with a helix shape. Ectobiology sure does involve a lot of button pushing. At least it does when you're a junior ectobiologist. 

Your loyal assistant Dr. Meowgon is all over this one. He sits on the button for you.

One pair of tubes empties the sludge into the chamber below. The other pair does as well. Another sequence is activated.

Four more babies appear.

You storm up your echeladder to claim the coveted if difficult to pronounce rung: Ectobiolobabysitter. 

Your ladder is absolutely hemorrhaging the boondollars. Just what your porkhollow's fat ass needs. You surpass one million boondollars and trade them all in for a single whopping boonbuck. This is of course going directly into the college fund for these youngsters. 

The boonbuck, shaped like a gold bar, sure is heavy. Into the hollow it goes. Oops, shattered the ceramic porkhollow.

Now what?


	130. Facilitate a Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much to my new beta, [snipercat12](http://archiveofourown.org/users/snipercat12/pseuds/snipercat12)! Any remaining mistakes are my own.

###  Chapter 130: Act IV: Facilitate a Reunion

_Navigating the Veil nearby…_

An old man stands at the wheel of a massive space-faring yacht. He has much to do before he returns to Earth, dies, gets stuffed by his adopted-yet-biological daughter-slash-grand-daughter, and stuck in front of a fireplace. 

Taking priority at the moment is shipping two passengers long overdue for a reunion.

The massive yacht, branded with an iconic image of the old man's face, navigates the space between meteors surprisingly well. The lady and the gentleman perched on the tower are too preoccupied to notice, though.

The gentleman takes out his wallet fetch modus and retrieves the long-missed pink scarf. He offers it to the lady, who smiles and wraps it around her neck. She offers her hand.

They clasp hands, and turn to view Skaia, glowing blue in the distance. They will be there soon, but for now, they can just enjoy the moment.


	131. Act IV: Get Trolled in a Sane and Linear Manner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ John
>   * _Where:_ In a lab, on a meteor, in the Veil
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Small children, trolling, somewhat lax babysitting practices, existential shenanigans, dramatic reenactment of a movie scene

###  Chapter 131: Act IV: Get Trolled in a Sane and Linear Manner

By the time you receive an alert from Pesterchum, the babies have outfoxed you. The two blond girls are sitting still enough waving arms at each other. One of the little dark haired babies in square glasses is being given a belly rub by Dr. Meowgon, while the other one is furiously hitting the platform you are standing on. The blond boys are climbing on the machine, and one of them has broken into a tube and is sitting in it. And you have a little black-haired girl on your head and another pulling on your pants.

Eh, you can spare a minute to see who it is.

CG: SEE THIS IS A CASE IN POINT.   
EB: what point?   
CG: THE POINT I WAS JUST MAKING.   
CG: ABOUT THE ULTIMATE RIDDLE.   
CG: YOU BLITHERING FECULENT SHITHOLE.   
CG: OK THAT'S YOUR CUE TO LAUGH AT ME SOME MORE I GUESS.   
CG: BECAUSE YOU SEEM TO REALLY GET OFF WHENEVER I FLAME YOU.   
CG: HUMANS ARE DERANGED.   
EB: oh man, i must be getting closer to the conversations where you're trolling me harder!   
EB: this is pretty exciting, i can't wait to see what you've got up your sleeve.   
CG: YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN??? FUCK YOU ABOUT THAT.   
EB: anyway, you weren't making a point about the ultimate riddle, dude.   
CG: YES I WAS, AND NOW I'M LOSING MY TRAIN OF THOUGHT DIPSHIT.   
EB: nope, we never talked about it.   
EB: yet...   
CG: OH HELL, THAT'S RIGHT.   
CG: DAMMIT, I GUESS THIS IS GOING TO BE CONFUSING.   
EB: oh, you're just starting to figure that out now?   
CG: SEE I KIND OF PAINTED MYSELF INTO A CORNER.   
CG: I STARTED TROLLING YOU AT THE END, JUST BEFORE THE RIFT.   
CG: AND THEN JUMPED BACK A LITTLE.   
CG: AND NOW I GUESS I'VE BECOME RAILROADED INTO WORKING BACKWARDS HERE.   
CG: UNLESS I WANT TO DO THE SORT OF DUMB SCHIZOPHRENIC HOPPING AROUND LIKE THE OTHERS.  
EB: oh my god, i know, you've already told me like a million times!!!   
CG: I HAVE?   
CG: WOW I CAN'T WAIT FOR ALL THESE AMAZING CONVERSATIONS TO TAKE PLACE.   
CG: IT'S GOING TO BE LIKE THAT HUMAN VACATION WITH THE GIANT RED CHIMNEY ASSHOLE UP IN HERE.   
CG: YOU KNOW, THE ONE WHERE A BUNCH OF MOANY NOOKSUCKERS SING AT A LITTLE PINE TREE I THINK.   
EB: man, i've got to say i'm a little disappointed by this "masterful trolling" you were bragging about.   
CG: I WAS BRAGGING?   
CG: WHY WOULD I BOTHER WITH THAT SORT OF PEDANTIC HUMAN HORSESHIT.   
CG: MAYBE YOU SHOULD CONSIDER THAT I WAS BRAGGING TO GET YOUR HOPES UP IN THE FUTURE.   
CG: ONLY TO LET YOU DOWN.   
CG: AND THUS TROLL YOU MASTERFULLY IN THAT RESPECT.   
EB: maybe, but that would be pretty weak too!!!   
CG: YOUR BRITTLE HUMAN CALCIUM BASED SKULL IS WHAT IS WEAK, AND IF YOU AND I WERE IN THE PROXIMITY OF A BLUNT INSTRUMENT I WOULDN'T HAVE MUCH TROUBLE PROVING IT.   
EB: w/e.   
EB: so what was the "case in point" you were making, anyway?   
CG: I WAS SCROLLING BACK AND NOTICED YOU WERE IN THE VEIL.   
EB: whoa, i am?   
CG: YEAH DUMBDUMB, YOU'RE TUMBLING AROUND ON A BIG GODDAMN METEOR.   
CG: AND YOU JUST CREATED YOUNGER VERSIONS OF YOURSELVES AND YOUR GUARDIANS.   
CG: PROBABLY BY MUCKING AROUND WITH THAT THING LIKE A DOOFUS.   
EB: wait...   
EB: these are baby versions of us?   
CG: HAHAHAHAHAHA, SO CLUELESS.   
CG: WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING THERE ANYWAY.   
EB: well...   
EB: i saw footage of my nanna, and some other people who i am pretty sure were like jade's grandpa and rose's mom and stuff from a long time ago.   
EB: and then...   
EB: there were all these little guys scurrying around.   
EB: so they are like cloned copies of us?   
CG: NO.   
CG: THEY ARE LITERALLY YOU AND YOUR GUARDIANS.   
CG: PARADOX CLONES.   
EB: huh?   
EB: what do you mean they are literally us?   
EB: do they go back in time?   
CG: YEAH, OBVIOUSLY. GREAT GUESS BRAIN HERO.   
CG: BUT TECHNICALLY THEY AREN'T EVEN SENT BACK IN TIME BECAUSE WITH RESPECT TO THE MEDIUM YOUR UNIVERSE'S TIMELINE IS MEANINGLESS.   
CG: SERIOUSLY WHY WOULD IT GIVE A CRAP ABOUT EARTH'S PAST OR FUTURE OR WHATEVER, FROM IT'S PERSPECTIVE IT'S JUST A BUNCH OF POINTS TO CHOOSE FROM.   
CG: JUST LIKE YOUR CHRONOLOGY IS FROM OUR PERSPECTIVE.   
CG: BUT I GUESS THAT'S A BUNCH OF SEMANTICS. WITH RESPECT TO YOUR PERSONAL CHRONOLOGY YEAH THEY GO BACK IN TIME.   
CG: A PARADOX CLONE IS BY DEFINITION A CORRECTLY CLONED DUPLICATE THAT WILL INEVITABLY GO BACK IN TIME AND BECOME THE ORIGINAL TARGET THAT WAS CLONED.   
CG: IF IT'S A MALFORMED CLONE, IT'S JUST A MEANINGLESS MUTANT THAT HAS NO BEARING ON THE STABLE LOOP CONTINUUM.   
CG: I DON'T SEE ANY TENTACLES OR EXTRA EYEBALLS OR WARPED BONE BULGES, SO THOSE GROSS LITTLE THINGS THERE ARE ALL YOU GUYS, WAITING TO GO TO EARTH AND GROW UP AND BECOME THE INSIPID BUNCH OF GRUBFISTED DOUCHEBAGS YOU ALL ARE NOW.   
CG: AND THIS WAS THE POINT I WAS TRYING TO MAKE ABOUT THE ULTIMATE RIDDLE.   
EB: what is the riddle anyway?   
EB: maybe i can guess, i am good at riddles!   
CG: HAHAHA, THINK AGAIN IGNORAMUS.   
CG: IT'S NOT EVEN THAT GREAT.   
CG: OR EVEN MUCH OF A RIDDLE AT ALL.   
CG: IN THE COURSE OF YOUR ADVENTURE YOU WOULD HAVE ENCOUNTERED ALL THESE FRAGMENTS OF LIKE WEIRD POEMS AND SHIT.   
CG: YOU FIND THEM ALONG YOUR QUESTS, WITH CLUES AND STUFF BURIED IN THEM TO HELP YOU SOLVE PUZZLES AND MOVE HUGE STONE COLUMNS AND MAKE STAIRCASES APPEAR AND LOTS OF NONSENSE LIKE THAT.   
CG: AND IT'S ALL MASKED IN THIS FLOWERY SORT OF FROTHY POETIC JACKASSERY THAT NOBODY REALLY CARES ABOUT.   
CG: AND I SURE AS HELL DON'T CARE ABOUT SPOILING IT FOR YOU.   
CG: BUT WHAT ALL THESE LOFTY SYMBOLIC ALLUSIONS BOIL DOWN TO IS SOME GRANDER STATEMENT ABOUT WHAT YOU SEE HAPPENING HERE.   
CG: THAT YOU WERE ALWAYS THE KEY TO SEEDING YOUR OWN EXISTENCE THROUGH THIS GAME.   
CG: AND ANY HOPE THAT IT COULD HAVE PLAYED OUT DIFFERENTLY OR THAT YOU COULD HAVE AVOIDED THIS WHOLE MESS WAS ALWAYS JUST A RUSE.   
EB: a distaction, perhaps?   
CG: WHAT?   
EB: nevermind.   
CG: BECAUSE IF IT DIDN'T GO DOWN THIS WAY THEN HOW WERE YOU EVEN BORN, GET IT.   
CG: WHICH IS ESPECIALLY PATHETIC SINCE PARADOX SPACE APPARENTLY WENT TO ALL THIS TROUBLE TO MAKE YOU JUST TO HAVE YOU FAIL AND DIE.   
CG: REALLY THERE'S NOTHING MORE TRAGIC THAN THESE NULL SESSIONS FULL OF KIDS ENTERING THE GAME AND FULFILLING SOME COSMIC DESTINY SHIT JUST TO GET WIPED OUT AND LEAVE BEHIND AN EMPTY POINTLESS INCIPISPHERE FOR ALL ETERNITY.   
CG: ACTUALLY IT'S SORT OF HILARIOUS. 

You're not sure you get it, but you don't think hilarious is quite the word you would use.

CG: OR IT WOULD BE IF IT DIDN'T AFFECT ME PERSONALLY.   
CG: BUT ANYWAY, THERE'S A LOT MORE TO THE RIDDLE THAN JUST THAT, LIKE WHAT WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT LAST TIME WE TALKED.   
CG: BUT THAT'S SORT OF THE GIST OF THE THEMES IT DEALS WITH.   
EB: ok.   
EB: well, if i run into some salamanders who tell me all about this riddle and get really excited about it, i will try to act surprised.   
EB: so this is the same kind of thing you went through?   
EB: with, like, being your own paradox clones and creating your own parents and stuff?   
CG: YEAH.   
EB: how did that even work, with 12 of you?   
CG: IT WAS REALLY FUCKING COMPLICATED AND I'M NOT GOING TO GET INTO IT.   
CG: OUR FAMILY STRUCTURES ARE ALREADY WAY MORE COMPLICATED THAN YOURS WITHOUT EVEN GETTING SPOOKY TIME SLIME INVOLVED.   
CG: BASICALLY WE HAVE NOTHING IN COMMON WHATSOEVER.   
CG: EXCEPT MAYBE THIS...   
CG: I WAS THE GUY IN YOUR POSITION, TO MAKE ALL THESE CLONES, AND FRANKLY IT ALL KIND OF FREAKED ME THE HELL OUT.   
EB: huh... 

You suddenly recall your last conversation with this guy. Oh yeah, you get to do the trolling this time!

EB: yeah, i guess now that you mention it, i am finding it all a little strange...   
CG: OH, ONLY JUST NOW???   
CG: FUCK YOU ARE FAST, I HOPE YOU GOT THE MAD BOONBUCKS TO PAY OFF THOSE SPEEDING TICKETS.   
EB: no, no, i mean the ghost stuff and paradoxes are one thing of course...   
EB: it's something else.   
EB: it's just...   
EB: this is really weird...   
CG: WHAT'S SO WEIRD ABOUT IT.   
EB: well, normally humans hatch...   
EB: from like these slimy pods.   
EB: then we wriggle out as a little pink larva.

You are fighting so hard to keep a straight face.

CG: OH REALLY.   
CG: HUH, MAYBE WE HAVE MORE IN COMMON THAN I THOUGHT.   
EB: (hehehehehehehe)   
CG: MAYBE THOSE REALLY ARE MUTANT CLONES AND THEY AREN'T GOING BACK TO SEED YOUR PLANET???   
EB: um...   
EB: sure...?   
CG: HELL, I'M CONFUSED NOW.   
CG: NOT THAT I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU AND YOUR POINTLESS AWFUL LIVES.   
EB: hey, i have an idea.   
EB: why don't you get back to me in a few minutes?   
EB: i mean like a few minutes of my time, not yours.   
EB: all of these little pink monkeys are getting way out of line and i have to tend to them.   
EB: if you message me in a couple minutes, we can continue conversing in a sane, linear fashion for a change!   
CG: UM, OK?   
EB: and then after that you can keep going backwards and then make fun of me riding my little red rocket.   
EB: you can tell me i look like a silly little paradox clone fresh out of my slime tube and this is just all a big nurseytime recess jamboree.   
EB: that would burn me good!   
CG: OK THAT IS PRETTY GOOD.   
CG: BUT I CAN'T USE IT, BECAUSE YOU SAID IT, AND THEN LATER, I.E. RIGHT NOW, YOU WOULD GET THE SATISFACTION OF KNOWING YOU WERE THE ONE TO COME UP WITH THAT BURN.   
CG: SEE, YOU ARE DEALING WITH A PRO, YOU CAN'T OUT TROLL ME SO JUST FORGET ABOUT IT AND STOP TRYING.   
EB: (hehehehehehehehehehehe)

Okay, now for the little pink monkeys. They're scramblin' all over the place!

They appear to be preoccupied by some of the objects littered around the lab. At least it is keeping them busy. There's a girl who might be your Nanna sitting in your dad's hat. And little you (you can tell, because your hair sticks up in exactly the same way) is crawling on your copy of _Sassacre_. One of the blond boys is sleeping on the creepy puppet's lap. The other blond boy is on the back of the pony. And the other little black-haired boy is waving two pistols around.

Before you can take them away, you get trolled again.

CG: OK IT'S A FEW MINUTES LATER.   
CG: LOOK HOW SANE AND LINEAR WE ARE BEING.   
EB: yeah!   
CG: OK AWESOME, NOW FUCK YOU AND GOODBYE.   
EB: wait!   
CG: WHAT.   
EB: i was just looking at all these rascals, and i was wondering...   
EB: how they go back in time and become us and stuff.   
EB: does it have something to do with the reckoning?   
CG: HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT.   
EB: you told me.   
EB: we had this great dare going.   
EB: to see who could be the least helpful and informative.   
EB: and you totally lost, dude!   
EB: you were hella helpful.   
CG: I WAS OBVIOUSLY JUST SPITING YOUR STUPID POINTLESS HUMAN DARE.   
CG: WHAT IS A DARE ANYWAY, IT'S NOTHING.   
CG: SOMEONE SAYS DO SOMETHING AND THEN, OH LAUGH LAUGH, YOU LOSE IF YOU DON'T DO IT.   
CG: THAT ISN'T ANYTHING THAT DESERVES A WORD.   
CG: WE DON'T EVEN HAVE A WORD FOR DARE IN OUR LANGUAGE.   
CG: THE CLOSEST APPROXIMATION WOULD BE "WORTHLESS FUCKING BULLSHIT WASTE OF TIME FOR SILLY LITTLE CHILDREN"   
EB: oh, wow.   
EB: is that the title of a movie too?   
CG: YES, IT'S THE TITLE OF EVERY DUMB MOVIE YOU EVER LIKED.   
EB: ha ha, that isn't even true and doesn't make sense!   
CG: ANYWAY, HOW COULD WE HAVE MADE A DARE IF I'M MOVING BACKWARDS ON YOUR TIMELINE.   
CG: YOU WOULD DARE ME TO DO SOMETHING, THEN I WOULD DO IT NEXT TIME, BUT THEN YOU WOULDN'T EVEN REMEMBER THE DARE.   
CG: BECAUSE WE DIDN'T MAKE IT YET.   
CG: THAT'S WHAT ISN'T TRUE AND DOESN'T MAKE SENSE YOU DAMP BAG OF PUKE.   
EB: well yeah, the dare never happened, i was joking around and made that up to give you hard time.   
CG: YOU HAVE SOUNDING STUPID DOWN TO SUCH A SCIENCE.   
CG: WHERE IS YOUR LAB COAT AND TEST TUBES DOCTOR BRAIN PROFESSOR?   
EB: i am wearing a lab coat!   
EB: sort of...   
CG: YOU LOOK LIKE AN ELF.   
EB: that's bullshit!   
CG: YOU LOOK LIKE YOU SHOULD BE BLOWING INTO A FUNNY LITTLE SHELL, AND LIMBERING UP FOR A SILLY COOKIE DANCE.   
EB: do you even have elves?   
CG: YES, LET'S COMPARE WHICH FANTASY CREATURES THAT DON'T EXIST WE BOTH DO OR DON'T NOT HAVE.   
CG: WHAT A GREAT FUCKING IDEA, JOHN!   
EB: uh, what?   
CG: YOU ASKED ABOUT THE RECKONING, SO WHY DON'T WE TALK ABOUT THAT INSTEAD OF ALL THESE PRETTY MUCH TERRIBLE THINGS.   
EB: ok.   
CG: YEAH, SO WHEN THE RECKONING STARTS HAPPENING, ALL THESE PARADOX CLONES GET SHIPPED OFF TO METEORS, FLUNG THROUGH SKAIAN DEFENSE PORTALS, AND SENT BACK TO EARTH.   
CG: END OF STORY I GUESS.   
CG: BYE.   
EB: wait!!!   
EB: so that means...   
EB: we are all sort of like superman?   
CG: UH YEAH, I GUESS.   
EB: cool!   
CG: YOU ALL TRACE THE MYTHOLOGICAL FOOTSTEPS OF YOUR BELOVED HUMAN SUPERMAN WHO'S REALLY JUST A MUSCULAR CAUCASIAN ALIEN.   
CG: IT'S HILARIOUS HOW HUMANS WORSHIP HIM AS A PINNACLE OF HUMAN HEROISM AND VIRTUE BUT HE ISN'T EVEN HUMAN.   
CG: ACTUALLY IT'S INCREDIBLY PATHETIC.   
CG: BUT ALSO IN A WAY KIND OF ADMIRABLE.   
CG: BECAUSE IT MEANS DEEP DOWN YOU ALL MUST REALIZE WHO YOUR DADDY IS.   
CG: WE ARE, BITCHES.   
EB: yeah, superman is pretty cool, i guess.   
EB: did you know nicolas cage was almost going to play superman one time?   
CG: OH MY THROBBING PHLEGM LOBE, WHO GIVES A BARFING FUCK ABOUT THAT.   
CG: JOHN EGBERT, YOU HAVE ASSASSINATED MY PATIENCE.   
CG: ADIOS LOSER.   
EB: wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   
EB: get back to me in a couple minutes, ok?   
CG: SD;LKFJSD;LKFJSDLFKJ;   
CG: FINE.

Somewhere outside your universe, you have driven a troll to a facepalm x2 combo.

With all the other babies occupied with various artifacts, you are tending to the blond girls when you are once again trolled in a sane and linear manner. 

CG: OK, I GOT BACK TO YOU.   
CG: ARE YOU HAPPY.   
EB: sure, i guess.   
CG: YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW IT YET.   
CG: BUT YOU ARE ABOUT TO START PASSING OUT BUNNIES LIKE THEY'RE CHEAP CIGARS.   
CG: IT'S GOING TO BE AN EMBARRASSING DISPLAY.   
EB: what are you talking about?   
CG: YEAH, EXACTLY, NUMSKULL.   
CG: LET'S JUST HAVE OUR CHAT, THEN IT CAN NATURALLY OCCUR TO YOU TO BE AN IDIOT IN THE DUE COURSE OF TIME.   
EB: ok...   
EB: i was sort of mulling it over while looking at all these babies with guns and sitting on ponies and things...   
EB: and how the reckoning takes them back.   
EB: and how you said our reckoning starts sooner.   
CG: YEAH.   
EB: are you sure it has to start so soon? can't we delay it?   
CG: HAHAHAHA.   
CG: IT STARTS IN A FEW MINUTES STUPID.   
CG: SEE THAT COUNTDOWN CLOCK OVER THERE?   
CG: YOU AREN'T DELAYING ANYTHING. 

That doesn't sound good!

EB: oh... dang!   
EB: i guess i better get off this meteor then!   
CG: WELL I MEAN IT DOESN'T HAPPEN ALL AT ONCE.   
CG: FIRST SOME SMALLER METEORS GO.   
CG: THEN BIGGER ONES.   
CG: SPREAD OUT OVER LIKE 24 HOURS OR SO.   
CG: IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE...   
CG: GO TIME.   
CG: WHEN IT STARTS.   
CG: LIKE IT'S TIME TO HURRY UP AND STOP FUCKING AROUND AND KILL THE BOSS, GET IT?   
CG: THE ROCK YOU'RE ON DOESN'T BLAST OFF RIGHT AWAY. 

Whew. That's a relief! You don't really know how to get out of here.

CG: TOO BAD, BECAUSE IT WOULD HAVE SPARED YOU FROM MAKING A FOOL OF YOURSELF IN A COUPLE MINUTES, AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, SPARED ME FROM HAVING TO WATCH.   
EB: ok, well you keep saying how doomed we are and how all this bad stuff happens sooner, but you never say why!   
EB: what happens in our game that's different from yours that makes things go so badly?   
CG: JACK NOIR.

It doesn't _sound_ ominous.

EB: who is jack noir?   
CG: AN AGENT OF DERSE.   
CG: WHO FLIPPED OUT AND ROSE TO POWER.   
CG: HE KILLED YOUR BLACK QUEEN AND KING AND NOW HE'S IN CHARGE.   
EB: so you didn't have him in your game?   
CG: NO, WE DID.   
CG: BUT HE WAS HARMLESS.   
CG: ACTUALLY, HE WAS AN ALLY, SORT OF.   
CG: HE SETTLED A GRUDGE AGAINST THE QUEEN BY HELPING US DETHRONE AND EXILE HER.   
CG: AND THEN HE WOUND UP EXILED HIMSELF, AND SORT OF KEPT HELPING US THROUGH A COMMAND TERMINAL ON OUR OLD PLANET.   
CG: HE'S KIND OF A HUGE ASSHOLE THOUGH.   
CG: BUT BECAUSE HE TOOK THE QUEEN OUT OF THE PICTURE, WHEN WE GOT TO SKAIA WE ONLY HAD ONE MONARCH TO DEAL WITH INSTEAD OF TWO.   
CG: OF COURSE IT WAS A NASTY GIANT 12X PROTOTYPED BLACK KING THAT TOOK FOREVER TO KILL, JUST BARELY IN TIME BEFORE THE BIGGEST METEORS CAME, BUT STILL.   
EB: i see.   
EB: so after he got exiled and all that, he came here into our game and caused all this trouble?   
CG: NO, GOD.   
CG: EGBERT YOU ARE THICKER THAN THAT HIDEOUS JOKE BOOK YOU WADDLE AROUND WITH.   
CG: TRY TO THINK MORE ABSTRACTLY.   
CG: THINK ABOUT VIDEO GAMES.   
CG: WHAT'S AN EARTH GAME YOU LIKED TO PLAY?   
CG: NAME ONE.   
EB: ummmm...   
EB: crash bandicoot?   
CG: OK I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS, BUT I HAVE A FEELING IT'S A REALLY LAME EXAMPLE, BUT THAT'S FINE, IT'S NOT THE POINT.   
CG: SO LET'S SAY YOU PLAY YOUR BANDICOOT AND I PLAY MY BANDICOOT.   
CG: THEY ARE ESSENTIALLY THE SAME BANDICOOT, SAME APPEARANCE AND DESIGN AND BEHAVIORS.   
CG: BUT THEY ARE STILL COMPLETELY SEPARATE BANDICOOTS ON SEPARATE SCREENS.   
CG: SO WE BOTH HAVE OUR OWN ASS BANDICOOTS TO OURSELVES, THE SAME BUT DIFFERENT.   
CG: OUR JACKS ARE THE SAME BUT DIFFERENT TOO.   
CG: SAME GUY, DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES AND OUTCOMES.   
CG: OUR JACK TRUMPED THE QUEEN, BUT GOT NO FURTHER.   
CG: YOUR JACK GOT THE BEST OF BOTH OF THEM, AND IS NOW SOMETHING HIGHER THAN A QUEEN OR A KING...   
EB: like an ace?   
CG: SURE OK.   
EB: ok, i think i get it.   
EB: but how did he do that? what was different about what we did versus what you did?   
CG: FRANKLY I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE ORIGINAL THING THAT TIPPED THE SCALE WAS.   
CG: IT IS UNDER INVESTIGATION.   
CG: BUT IT DOESN'T REALLY MATTER.   
CG: THE WORST IS YET TO COME.   
CG: FOR YOU.   
EB: oh no!   
EB: what is the worst thing?   
CG: ALREADY TOLD YOU.   
EB: dammit! 

One of the girls crawls up to you and tugs insistently on your pants.

EB: oh, hey...   
EB: sorry, hold on, this little lady is bugging me about something.   
CG: YEAH YEAH, YOU MIGHT AS WELL GET IT OVER WITH AND GIVE HER THE LOUSY RABBIT ALREADY.   
EB: oh!!!!!   
EB: oh man, i just had THE BEST idea, this is so perfect.   
EB: a blonde mother and daughter together, this is totally perfect.   
CG: PERFECT FOR WHAT, FLEXING YOUR FORMIDABLE MENTAL HANDICAP LIKE A FUCKING HEAVYWEIGHT FOR THE NEXT SEVERAL MINUTES?   
CG: OH WAIT, LET ME CHECK, THE ANSWER IS YES.   
EB: it is like that scene in con air, i will give her the bunny like i am nick cage fresh out of the slammer.   
CG: FUCK.   
EB: i wish i had a filthy wifebeater on, oh well.   
CG: JUST...   
CG: AUGH.

You gaze at the two cute little blondes side by side and hum the opening bars to the song to get yourself in the right frame of mind. The girls look up at you in a very dramatic way. You take out the bunny you got from Dave.

“How do I... get through one night without you.  
If I had to live without you,  
What kind of life would that be?”

You offer the bunny to Rose, who backs away a little bit. Just like in your favorite scene, you shove it against her—accidentally sending her mom flying back a bit — then look away with a tear in your eye.

As you are chuckling over your re-enactment, the little girl you think might be Jade makes grabby hands at you. You eye her for a moment. Lucky that you have another bunny!

You take out Rose's gift, lift it in the air and pose, then shove it at Jade. Two for two!

In another universe, a troll is bonking himself on the head as he watches you.

In your mind, the movie keeps playing. The smoking plane, with a car tied on a rope behind it, knocks off the neck of the guitar of the Hard Rock. Casey plays her mushroom drums to take you to the end of the song as you sob and cuddle your girls.

There are simply no words.

(THIS IS STUPID yeah right.)

Meanwhile, that troll that got you killed is pointing and laughing at the screen now, while CG tries to fight her off.

You act out the guitar solo on air guitar. So awesome.

After catching your breath, you look for the timer CG mentioned. Oh. There it is.

A gray box on the wall is lit up with six blinking red lights over the word “RECKONING.” The timer shows 00:14.

_Gulp._

You glance at your charges, who are all quite happy with their distractions. One of the blond boys has fallen asleep in the puppet's lap. Your baby self is sitting on _Sassacre_ , occasionally chewing on the corner of the cover. The girls are cuddling their bunnies, though the blonde who is not Rose is snuggling Dr. Meowgon instead. Neither Nanna nor Dave has moved from their seats inside a hat and on a pony.

What's going to happen to them? What's going to happen to you?

One by one, they vanish in flashes of light, carried off to the meteors (if CG is to be trusted).

You remain in the lab, alone.

 

###### End of Act IV

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psyche, it'll be a few more chapters.


	132. Act IV: Get Trolled in a Nonlinear Manner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Rose
>   * _Where:_ Your House
>   * _When:_ Present
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Rebuffed overtures of friendship, texting while engaging in life-threatening situations

###  Chapter 132: Act IV: Get Trolled in a Nonlinear Manner

You suppose you could spare some attention from blowing up underlings to dismiss your troll.

\-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] \-- 

GA: Hello Again    
GA: Are We Friends Yet At This Point In Time    
GA: I Would Speculate That If We Are Not By Now Then It Is Probably Not To Be    
TT: Pardon?    
GA: Furthermore Which Rose Have You Chosen To Be This Time    
GA: The Stupid Rose Or The Smart Rose    
TT: I'm a little busy.    
GA: It Sounds Like You Are Attempting To Be The Smart Rose This Time    
GA: Please Take Note Of The Subtle Scorn Underlying The Selection Of The Word Attempting    
GA: Smart Rose Should Get A Kick Out Of That    
GA: Smart Rose Is All About Subtle Scorn Isnt She    
TT: That sounds about right.    
GA: Whereas Dumb Rose Doesn't Capitalize Letters Even When Discussing The Proper Names Of Human Monsters In Earth Cinema    
GA: I Think You Should Establish A Greater Commitment To A Single Roleplaying Scenario    
TT: Honestly, I was looking forward to playing along and reading your Dumb Rose script for our next conversation.    
TT: But it turned out there was a perfectly logical explanation for it all.    
TT: Imagine my disappointment.    
TT: While I imagine yours, once you finally catch on.    
GA: I Suddenly Dont Understand Anything    
GA: What Are You Talking About    
TT: I'd love to explain in detail and cause some sort of time paradox.    
TT: But you see - and this revelation may be as startling as any -    
TT: I'm a little busy. 

You take aim with your wand and obliterate an imp.

GA: I Believe I Understand    
GA: It Was I Who Did Something To Provoke Your Scorn In A Previous Conversation    
GA: One Which I Have Not Had Yet    
TT: Yes, that is definitely a conclusion you have just now drawn.    
TT: The only thing left to do is ride out the next several conversations while you maintain that understanding.    
TT: And while I maintain the chilly facade you have grown to so enjoy from Smart Rose.    
TT: Which shouldn't be too difficult, because... have I mentioned?    
TT: I'm busy.    
TT: Goodbye.    
GA: Fine

You have a gate to reach.


	133. Act IV: Descend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, the hyperlinks gave me fits, so if something looks wrong there please let me know.
> 
> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Dave
>   * _Where:_ Your apartment (your room)
>   * _When:_ both Present (directly from chapters 127), and Hours ago (between chapters 111  & 112)
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Comments that could be construed as **bullying** , flashbacks, creepy questions, manips of pop-culture images, Dave's mouth

###  Chapter 133: Act IV: Descend

When you reach your room, you are astounded to find that both journals and the beta tucked inside them are gone. You suppose you could go back in time and stop the thief, but after looking around it looks like you already tried that. 

Your bleeding corpse died a painful death on top of some of your gear. Whoever took those books was a pretty cold blooded dude. 

You figure you'll cool it on the time travel for a while. Don't want to see the Dave corpses start to pile up. Especially if one of them winds up being you. You ditch your dead body out the window before Jade sees it. That would probably freak her out. The lava will take care of that.

If you took the time to look around the skeletal remains of your apartment building, you might notice a strange figure with a diamond on his coat lurking around. Instead, you kind of end up zoning out, staring at the red on your hands. There's a big pool of it on your left palm, a slightly smaller smear on your right, and your fingers are liberally stained. Your righteous blood does not belong outside your body. Any of your bodies.

Someone is trolling you. You are suddenly glad you do not need your hands to use your iShades.

GC: D4V3 WH4TS 1T SM3LL L1K3   
TG: what   
GC: YOUR BLOOD   
TG: fuck off   
GC: D4V3   
GC: G1V3 1T 4 L1TTL3 T4ST3 FOR M3   
GC: T3LL M3 WH4T HUM4N BLOOD T4ST3S L1K3   
GC: 1V3 B33N SO CUR1OUS >:]   
TG: youre the annoying blind one arent you   
GC: Y34H   
TG: dave told me about you   
GC: GOD   
GC: TOO M4NY D4V3S   
GC: 1TS L1K3 TH1S B1G 4SSHOL3 4ND COOL GUY P4RTY   
GC: BUT SOM3ON3 FORGOT TO 1NV1T3 4LL TH3 COOL GUYS   
GC: >;] 

Well, at least she's distracting.

TG: man im telling you burns like that are unreal   
TG: where do you even get a burn thats that sick   
GC: I B3T YOU C4NT W41T TO B3 4 US3L3SS P13C3 OF SH1T 4LL D4Y 4ND F4LL DOWN 4LL TH3S3 BURNS   
TG: no you messed that up   
GC: D4V3 D4V3   
GC: 1S TH1S YOU   
GC: <http://tinyurl.com/PUR3D4V3>  
TG: uh   
GC: PFF4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H   
GC: H4H4H4H4H4H4H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3   
TG: did you try to draw shades on his face and miss   
TG: whats even the point hes already wearing shades   
GC: H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4   
GC: 1TS SO P3RF3CT TH4T 1S SO YOU   
GC: H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H  
TG: this is moronic   
GC: D4V3 T3LL M3 WH4T YOUR BLOOD SM3LLS L1K3   
GC: OR 1LL M4K3 4NOTH3R ON3   
GC: 4ND 1 KNOW TH3S3 HURT YOUR F33L1NGS   
GC: >:D 

Goddammit, no they don't. You are cooler than that. You just... need a minute.

TG: i dont know what it smells like or tastes like   
TG: but i sure as hell know what it looks like   
TG: like a fuckin symphony on my retinas   
TG: shit is beautiful like a little vermilion picnic on my hands   
TG: every day i open my eyes i find poetry in even the simplest things   
TG: just one of those little joys in life you take for granted you know   
TG: this miraculous gift of vision   
GC: D4V3 D4V3   
GC: CH3CK 1T OUT   
GC: 1 F1GUR3D 1T OUT   
GC: TH1S H4S GOT TO B3 YOU!   
GC: [http://tinyurl.com/TH1S1SSOOOOD4V3 ](http://tinyurl.com/TH1S1SSOOOOD4V3)  
GC: 444444444H4H4HH4H4H4H44H444H4HH4H4H4H4H4   
GC: H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H33H3H3H3H34H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4   
TG: i could give myself a hernia trying to be as big a douche as that guy   
TG: i could try but it would wind up like a motorcycle stunt gone horribly wrong   
TG: my broken body would flop and tumble around like a rag doll   
GC: H4H4H4H4H4H4HH4H4H4H4H4H4H4H44H4H4H4H4H 

Alright, yeah, time to get some of your own back.

GC: OH GOD 1 C4NT BR34TH3!!!!   
TG: and yet as much as that guys the tooliest dude i could ever hope to meet he and i would still get along famously   
TG: cause we can both see   
GC: H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H333H3H3H3H3H   
GC: H4H4H44H4H4H   
TG: just him and me   
TG: havin a see party   
TG: like a couple of eagle eyed bros peepin shit up into the wee hours   
GC: D4V3   
GC: C4N 1 COM3 TO YOUR S33 P4RTY?   
TG: i guess but youll have to be careful not to stumble around bumping into all the gorgeous masterpieces hanging around everywhere   
TG: god so beautiful to look at with my perfect eyesight   
GC: C4N 1 L1CK TH3 P41NT1NGS?   
TG: yeah thats fine

 

Well, at least that conversation knocked you out of your funk. You've got shit to do. Imps to slaughter and whatnot.

You are in the process of bisecting an amber imp encased in blue snow cone when GC trolls you again.

GC: D4V3 D4V3   
GC: 1 F1N4LLY GOT 1T   
TG: oh hell   
GC: 1 F1N4LLY F1GUR3D 1T OUT   
GC: ONC3 4ND FOR 4LL   
GC: TH1S 1S YOU!!!!!!!   
GC: <http://tinyurl.com/D4V34NDBRO43V3R>  
GC: FFFF444444444444H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4 

Okay, _Back to the Future_ , not terrible, for a given level of irony.

GC: H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4   
TG: that   
TG: ok thats pretty amazing   
GC: 4H4H4H4H4H4H44H4H4H4H4   
GC: OH GOD 1T 1S SO P3RF3CT   
GC: JUST 4 COOL DUD3 4ND H1S BRO R1GHT TH3R3 

Oh, that's right, your bro. You've been so strapped for time, you haven't even had a chance to think about him.

GC: 4DV3NTUR1NG THROUGH T1M3   
GC: 4ND PL4Y1NG P1NB4LL   
GC: 1N BRO H34V3N TOG3TH3R   
GC: T3LL M3 TH4T 1SNT SO FUCK1NG P3RF3CT   
GC: >8]   
TG: hey speaking of which   
TG: where is my bro anyway   
TG: havent seen him at all since i got here   
TG: davesprite doesnt know   
TG: you can see everything that goes on right   
TG: or like smell it or whatever   
TG: how does that even work   
TG: how do you use a computer and know whats going on it doesnt make sense 

You know exactly what burn she's going to come back with.

TG: my face doesnt make sense   
GC: D4V3 YOUR *F4C3* DO3SNT M4K3 ......   
GC: D4MM1T   
TG: hahaha   
GC: BUT 4CTU4LLY YOUR F4C3 *DO3S* M4K3 S3NS3   
GC: TO MY NOS3   
GC: 4ND MY TONGU3 >:P   
TG: ew   
GC: 1M SORRY D4V3 TH4T YOU W1LL N3V3R 3XP3R13NC3 TH3 S3NSORY BOUQU3T TH4T 1 3NJOY 3V3RY D4Y   
GC: TH4T 1 3NSCONC3 MYS3LF 1N L1K3 4 W4RM 4ND COMFY B4THROB3 M4D3 OF FL4VOR 4ND M3LODY   
TG: oh ok   
TG: so the dumbest and most far fetched explanation imaginable ok got it   
GC: 4NYW4Y 1 DONT KNOW WH3R3 YOUR BRO 1S   
GC: 4S F4R 4S 1 C4N T3LL YOU N3V3R S33 H1M 4G41N B3TW33N NOW 4ND TH3 R1FT   
GC: TOO B4D H3 WONT BE 4ROUND TO B41L YOU OUT 4G41N L1K3 H3 D1D WH3N YOU 3NT3R3D!!!   
TG: man dont remind me about that   
TG: so embarrassing 

You had never been so scared in your fucking life, and you are so so glad your bro was there. But if you ever admitted it you'd never live it down.

GC: 1TS OK 1 WONT T3LL JOHN 4BOUT 1T   
GC: 1 KNOW TH4TS WH4T YOUR3 WORR13D 4BOUT   
TG: ok cool   
GC: BUT LOOK YOU DONT N33D TO B3 UPS3T 4BOUT NOT H4V1NG YOUR BRO TO L34N ON 4NYMOR3   
TG: whos upset 

Not you. Striders don't do feelings.

TG: bout time the dude gave me a little space 

It's not like you need the strifing practice, with all these lame imps to knock down. Don't need the booby-trapped kitchen or the fucking puppets, either.

GC: BLUH OK WH4T3V3R YOU S4Y BUT TH4TS NOT TH3 PO1NT   
GC: TH3 PO1NT 1S 1 W1LL H3LP YOU 1NST34D D4V3   
GC: 1S TH4T COOL >:] 

You remember that this chick got your best bro killed, and resolve to take her advice with a grain of salt. But, eh, what can it hurt to listen?

TG: i guess   
GC: 1 KNOW 3V3RYTH1NG TH4TS GO1NG TO H4PP3N TO YOU   
GC: 1 C4N T3LL YOU B3FOR3 1T H4PP3NS   
GC: SO YOU C4N B3 R34DY   
GC: 4ND NOT H4V3 TO GO B4CK 1N T1M3 4ND G3T K1LL3D 4LL TH3 T1M3   
GC: 4ND ST4ND ON 4 TO1L3T LOOK1NG 4T YOUR OWN BLOOD FOR T3N M1NUT3S   
TG: alright so whats next   
GC: F1RST YOU GO THROUGH TH3 G4T3   
GC: 4ND WH3N YOU GO THROUGH YOU W1LL GO TO 4NOTHER PL4C3 1N YOUR W1LD CH3RRY L4V4 L4ND   
GC: 4ND YOU W1LL QU1CKLY M33T SOM3 FR13NDLY CROCOD1L3S 

...Right.

GC: TH3Y W1LL TRY TO 34T YOU   
GC: BUT TH4T 1S JUST TH31R W4Y OF B31NG FR13NDLY! 

...Friendly. Uh-huh.

GC: YOU SHOULDNT B3 SC4R3D   
TG: why would i be scared   
GC: D4V3 PL34S3   
GC: YOU 4R3 CRY1NG L1K3 4 L1TTL3 BOY   
GC: 1TS 1S H4PP3N1NG R1GHT H3R3 1N FRONT OF MY NOS3   
GC: YOUR T34RS T4ST3 D3L1C1OUS   
GC: K1ND OF L1K3   
GC: L1K3 SOM3TH1NG YOU WOULDNT KNOW 4BOUT   
GC: 4 TROLL D3L1C4CY C4LL3D COTTON C4NDY   
TG: we have cotton candy dumpass   
GC: >8O

Guess you can't put it off anymore. You head for the top of the building.

You remind yourself that you've been in worse shit. Not even that long ago...

|<<

You've almost made it. You are inches from the stupid puppet and shitty sword nest. You are kind of hoping the thieving crowsprite doesn't want to strife you for the egg, because your broken katana is probably not going to do you a lot of good if you're clinging to the tower like a goddamn monkey.

You are trying not to look at the meteor that is really too close for comfort. It is big and bright and red against the night sky.

You don't know how you are going to get the egg before the meteor gets you.

_Caw caw!_

Nevermind the meteor. The stupid crow does want to defend the stupid egg. It pecks you on the head. You try to wave it away.

You let go of the tower.

You start to fall. You are hundreds of feet in the air, puppet parts and shitty swords falling around you like rain. The egg falls too.

Fuck, you are going to die.

Your gaze is caught by the meteor. Is that... your bro? _Standing_ on the fucking thing?

It is. It really fucking is.

He raises his sword high above his head, and brings it down. The meteor cleaves clean in two. The two halves fall to the side and crash into buildings a block away.

Welp, guess you're not going to die by meteor.

Your fall is arrested by Bro's rocket board passing underneath you at just the right time.

The egg cracks, through no doing of your own.

And that's how you made it into the Medium.

>>|

...So you may be surrounded by enemies with sharp teeth and glowing eyes on all sides, uncertain how you're going to reach the red gate above you or what you'll find on the other side, but... It could be worse.

You take Unreal Air from your sylladex and hop on with your sword braced on your shoulder. The board carries you up, out of reach of the underlings. You drift up through the first gate.


	134. Act IV: Descend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jack
>   * _Where:_ The Battlefield
>   * _When:_ Moments ago
> 

> 
> ###### Additional chapter warnings:
> 
> Bad guys doing bad things.

###  Chapter 134: Act IV: Descend

You raise your sword laterally in front of you, afix your best scowl on your face, and stalk relentlessly toward the pathetic collection of stupefied witnesses gathered below the hill. They are an unholy mix of Prospitian and Dersite, led by a black carapacian wearing a purple hood and carrying a ragged red banner.

You don't know what they want, and you don't care. They will all fall before you regardless.

You swing once, twice, again. Blood pours onto the black and white checkered ground as you bisect, stab, or behead every body you can reach.

The little leader, last one standing, drops his banner and looks horrified. He ain't seen nothin' yet. You plant your feet and lift your fist up toward the sky. The ring glows, sparks, and then erupts with dancing, jagged red lines of power that reach out for miles. The Red Miles have been unleashed. They pierce the ground beneath you and stab at the blue sky above.

Lines bisect a white knight and a black rook, both mechanized monsters exploding with archers still perched atop them. Your stretch farther, and your lines cross through planes and flying ships, taking them down with ease.

You glance over your shoulder. A line of riflemen in pointed hats has approached you. You can read their determination in their eyes and the set of their shoulders. Each fuchsia rifle is pointed directly at you. It will not be enough to save them.

You clench your fist, and you can feel Skaia trembling beneath you. You are tearing the ground apart for miles around you, but still you are not satisfied.

The courtyard droll comes up to you glibly. He is too stupid to be afraid of you. Across his hands is the scepter of the white king. He offers it to you.

You take it and perch on a mound, spreading your wings and tentacles wide. You raise the scepter, and summon the Reckoning. A ring of rocks forms around the orb on the scepter, and you know you are moving the Veil itself.

There is still the yellow planet above you. Too close, too happy and bright. You launch yourself into the air. Your power is stronger now, with both the scepter and the ring. Before you even reach Prospit, your red miles are already snaking through the streets, crumbling buildings and impaling insipid white weaklings.

Prospit's moon is directly between Prospit and Skaia. How annoying. How tempting.

You cut through the massive chain holding the moon in place. It is drawn toward Skaia, entering the atmosphere. It will burn up without your help.

You fly on toward the planets of the Players. One of them is firey red, even from a distance. As you get closer you see that it is covered in lava and gears.

There is a vinyl record as large as a mesa floating above the lava, and it is there you find an opponent worthy of your time. The swordsman in a not-entirely-ridiculous hat points at you in challenge. His stance is open, his blade held behind his head.

You scowl, and you do not fly away.

He comes at you, striking out with his blade. He is quick on his feet and aggravatingly fast with a dodge.

You're faster.

You don't bother to parry or block, just using your wings and tentacles to move at a moment's notice. After three or four exchanges, you break apart to face each other again. You can't see his eyes behind stupid triangular mirrors, and that irritates you. You want to see the fear in your adversary's eyes as he realizes what he's up against.

He can't beat you.

He knows that.

He lifts his blade high, point down. Instead of aiming for you, this time he stabs deep into the record between you and lets go. The vinyl cracks in a zigzagging pattern much like your Miles. Light pours up from below.

You meet his shielded gaze for long moments across the divide, the only acknowledgement you will give him.

Then you leap over the scratch, annoyed and expecting him to be defenseless, but he is gone by the time you pass through the light.


	135. Act IV: Descend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ###### In this chapter you are:
> 
>   * _Who:_ Jade
>   * _Where:_ Prospit's Moon
>   * _When:_ Present (a few moments ago)
> 


###  Chapter 135: Act IV: Descend

You are circling around a big round building at high speed. You are way up above the street, and you can see Prospit itself ahead of you, though of course the planet is much further away than it looks.

As you are nearing John's tower, you notice an elegant white carapacian and a collection of others boarding a ship. They don't really look like soldiers, so you can't guess where they are going. Away from Skaia, that much is clear. The moon has revolved around toward Skaia, as close as it gets.

You are distracted from your distraction by a black winged being flying across Skaia. You can make out a pointy hat, large wings, and long tentacles. It can't be the black queen, can it?

Red light! Heat and explosions!

You turn toward Prospit in horror. The whole planet looks as if it's on fire. How horrible! Then that awful shape comes between you and Prospit, and the chain... breaks! The moon immediately starts falling toward Skaia. Broken buildings turn red under the friction of the atmosphere.

You spot John's tower, falling roof-first. It has a hole in the roof, and things are falling through it. First the black clown doll, then a ghost-print bedsheet, then...

John! He's still asleep!

It's a good thing you have so much practice flying in your dreams. You plummet down, just ahead of falling debris, and grab his shoulders. The moon is coming behind you. You can't fly back up, nor can you get to the side in time. There is no safety below you.

“Wake up, John!”

You shake his shoulders, jerking hard enough that his head wobbles back and forth. When that doesn't work, you slap him across the face a few times, screaming at him. You can barely hear your own voice over the roar of the meteor behind you.

Out of time, you speed toward the side and whip him further with all of your strength. You watch as he flies out of the zone of imminent impact.

John is safe. You saved him.

You are not. You don't live long enough to see the moon impact Skaia. Your dreambot, linked to your dreamself, can't process the backlash of your dreamdeath. It begins sparking green light, its limbs and head moving vaguely without control. Moments later, the bot explodes in a rather spectacular fashion on top of your bedroom. The suspended room is damaged, and breaks apart. Asleep but no longer dreaming, you and all your things fall toward the ground a hundred feet below.

###### End of Act IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of act animation (comprising most of the last 3 chapters) can be found [here](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=003840)


	136. Update Walkthrough for the Final Time

### Chapter 136: Update Walkthrough for the Final Time

You fight your way up toward the gate. Just as John did, you are facing heftier opponents. However, you find even the ogres don't present much of a challenge. You reach the gate in good time, and observe it for a moment.

You have no intention of going through it. 

You point your wand straight up, and you send forth your Dark Majyyks . The gate explodes, creating a cloud of gray smoke above your house.

Then you jump from the roof, blasting your wand behind and below you. The force propels you forward, and you transform your fall into controlled flight over the open water.

You are done playing this game by the rules.


End file.
